Bad Boy or New Guy?
by Happy Snow
Summary: Annabeth always thought that Luke was the one for her. But what happens when a green-eye boy stumbles over the property line? Annabeth is lost. Read her mind as she fights to choose between the bad boy or the new guy. Credits: luvthesea17 - 3692659
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: me owns no! By the way, this story is also on Wattpad under SunnySnow._

Annabeth Chase's POV

I traced my finger along Luke's cheek on the photo. It have been five years since I've first met him and my feeling for him had never wavered but still, he hasn't ask me out.

At first, I thought it was because he hasn't gotten over Thalia but after two years of waiting, I'm pretty sure he doesn't like me. That doesn't mean I can't continue hoping that one day, he will stop seeing me just as a friend.

Oh, and if I get the quest to go and find the stolen item and return it to the gods by the summer solstice, I will want Luke to come with me. Wondering how I know? Satyrs. They are so easy to be overheard.

You might think I am crazy, thinking about Luke at this time when there is trouble but he's seriously gorgeous. You won't understand until you see him for yourself.

I sighed. It was about time Luke goes for a walk so I guess I'll just go to the place he always does and hope he ask. I seriously doubt he will, though.

That was when I heard it. A terrifying, ear-piercing scream that probably could be heard all over New York. Of course, I ran out to see the commotion. I was outside the big house when I saw a boy with dark hair dragging Grover who was unconscious.

_No! _I thought. Don't let Grover be hurt. He was the only person I can confide in about Luke. He can't die. Who is this boy? What is _he_ doing with Grover? Or was he the one related to the prophecy. Yes, it must be him. Grover tends to find important people like Thalia.

"He's the one. He must be." I told Chiron, who was next to me.

"Silence, Annabeth," He said. "He's still conscious. Bring him inside." Of course, I had no choice but to obey but I swore that the next time he woke up, I would ask him about the summer solstice deadline.

Argus and I took turns to take care of him, spoon-feeding him ambrosia. He drooled a bit when he sleeps but it just made him look kind of, well, cute. He was always tossing and turning and mumbling in his sleep. So far, I caught the words "mum", "dead", "Grover", "Mrs Dodds.", "fury" and "No!" His voice was warm and I wanted to hear more of it. When he finally woke up, I jumped right to the point.

"What will happen at the summer solstice?"

"What?" his voice was really weak and I pitied him.

"What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!" I told him.

"I'm sorry, I don't…" Argus (I think) knocked the door and I forced some pudding into his mouth so as not to be suspicious and he fell back into his unconscious state, luckily (for me cause I wouldn't be suspected but probably not lucky for him). _But if he's the one, why does he say he doesn't know anything?_I had just enough time to wonder before Argus entered. I was right, it was Argus at the door.

Argus pointed at himself and I got the hint. It was his shift. I sighed wishing that he had woken up early. Having nothing to do, I decided to inform Luke cabin that they would be having a new cabin mate as soon as the boy (Percy according to Grover) wakes up. I walked over to cabin eleven and knocked. Everyone looked up at once curious but as soon as they saw me, they went back to what they were doing. They knew that almost every time I came, it was for Luke.

He seemed to get used to the routine too. He walked out and pulled out of the cabin to a corner.

"What is it?" he asked, giving me his funny smile.

I grinned back. "You're going to get a new camper, Percy, if he survives."

"Are you allowed to tell me?" he asked with fake seriousness. I shook my head but I knew that he would want to know. He nodded and ruffled my hair gently.

"Anything else?" he asked and my heart sank. He is going to walk back to his cabin and I'll go back being bored in my cabin. I wanted to nod my head and ask him to come with me and I was going to do so until…

The image of Percy flowed back into my memory. How is he now? I wondered if I could talk to him and ask him about the summer solstice. Suddenly, I wanted it so badly that I shook my head and said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you that. Don't tell your cabinmates yet, please."

He looked at me surprised and my heart leaped thinking that he might care but I pushed it away. I turned around and walk away from Luke, half wanting to leave and half wanting to join him.

Finally, I walked into the big house and all my worries of Luke disappeared. All I could think is Percy. Was he alright? Would I ever hear his warm comforting voice again? Annabeth, stop it. I told myself. Luke is better, Percy doesn't matter. Or he does, murmured a small part of me.

Sadly, Percy wasn't awake yet. I let my hand run gently down his cheek and smiled. At least this was the real and not like when I stroked the picture of Luke. It felt a lot better.

The next time I saw Percy was at the end of the porch. He was looking a bit better. Then, suddenly, a strange thought appeared. I was angry at him for making me forget Luke when I'm near him. How dare he? Does it really matter? Wondered a small part of me.

"That's Mr. D," Grover murmured to Percy. "He's the camp director. Be polite." The obvious. "The girl, that's Annabeth Chase. She's just a camper," Just a camper? "but she's been here longer than just about anybody. And you already know Chiron... " He knew Chiron?

"Mr. Brunner!" he cried. Who? I wondered

Chiron turned and smiled at him.

"Ah, good, Percy," he said. "Now we have four for pinochle."

He offered him a chair to the right of Mr. D, who looked at him with bloodshot eyes and heaved a great sigh. "Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now, don't expect me to be glad to see you."

"Uh, thanks." he scooted a little farther away from him. I think he was afraid. I smiled smugly.

"Annabeth?" Chiron called.

I came forward and Mr. Brunner introduced us. "This young lady nursed you back to health, Percy. Annabeth, my dear, why don't you go check on Percy's bunk? We'll be putting him in cabin eleven for now."

"Sure, Chiron." I replied.

I glanced at the minotaur horn in his hands, then back at him. I wanted to tell him something great about him. Like killing a minotaur was a great job and he was awesome but thinking about Luke, I said, "You drool when you sleep."

Then I sprinted off down the lawn, thouroughly embarrassed. I went to cabin eleven and without bothering to knock, shouted, "Is there a space for a new camper? He's joining you later today." Luke nodded. After all, he already knew about Percy

I waited outside for Percy but he took so long that I started to read my Greek architecture. Finally, Chiron and Percy arrived.

"Annabeth," Chiron said, "I have masters' archery class at noon. Would you take Percy from here?"

"Yes, sir." I replied.

"Cabin eleven," Chiron told him, gesturing toward the doorway. "Make yourself at home."

Chiron didn't go in. The door was too low for him. But when the campers saw him they all stood and bowed respectfully, as usual.

"Well, then," Chiron said. "Good luck, Percy. I'll see you at dinner."

He galloped away toward the archery range.

He stood in the doorway, looking at the kids. They weren't bowing anymore. They were staring at him like he was an alien or something. I nearly rolled my eyes. They did this to every new camper to freak them out on purpose.

"Well?" I prompted. "Go on."

He then tripped going in the door and made a total fool of himself. There were some snickers from the campers, but luckily none of them said anything.

"Percy Jackson, meet cabin eleven," I announced.

"Regular or undetermined?" Connor asked, hopefully

"Undetermined," I replied and as expected, everybody groaned.

Luke came forward. "Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there."

"This is Luke," I said, and blushed. I swore my voice changed. Percy then glanced over must have seen me blushing. I quickly hardened my expression again.

"He's your counselor for now." I told him.

"For now?" he asked.

"You're undetermined," Luke explained patiently. "They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all new comers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers."

He looked at the tiny section of floor they'd given me then glanced around at the campers' faces. He must have remembered that Hermes was the god of thieves. Not bad, I thought impressed.

"How long will I be here?" he asked.

"Good question," Luke replied. "Until you're determined."

"How long will that take?"

The campers all laughed.

"Come on," I told him. "I'll show you the volleyball court."

"I've already seen it." He said. Idiot, I thought.

"Come on." I grabbed his wrist and dragged him outside. He could hear the kids of cabin eleven laughing behind him.

When we were a few feet away, I said, "Jackson, you have to do better than that."

"What?"

I rolled my eyes and mumbled under my breath, "I can't believe I thought you were the one."

"What's your problem?" he seemed to be getting angry. "All I know is, I kill some bull guy…" What an idiot.

"Don't talk like that!" I told him. "You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?"

"To get killed?" he asked. The more I talked to him, the more I thought he was irritating, annoying…

"To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?"

He shook his head. "Look, if the thing I fought really wasthe Minotaur, the same one in the stories ..."

"Yes."

"Then there's only one."

"Yes."

"And he died, like, a gajillion years ago, right? Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. So ..."

"Monsters don't die, Percy. They can be killed. But they don't die."

"Oh, thanks. That clears it up."

"They don't have souls, like you and me. You can dispel them for a while, maybe even for a whole lifetime if you're lucky. But they are primal forces. Chiron calls them archetypes. Eventually, they re-form."

"You mean if I killed one, accidentally, with a sword…"

"The Fur ... I mean, your math teacher. That's right. She's still out there. You just made her very, very mad." I interrupted.

"How did you know about Mrs. Dodds?"

"You talk in your sleep."

"You almost called her something. A Fury? They're Hades' torturers, right?"

I glanced nervously at the ground, he shouldn't say names like that. It's dangerous. "You shouldn't call them by name, even here. We call them the Kindly Ones, if we have to speak of them at all."

"Look, is there anything we can say without it thundering?" he asked in a whiny tone which sounded supercute. No, I thought firmly. I like Luke Castellan. Not that idiotic boy.

"Why do I have to stay in cabin eleven, anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty of empty bunks right over there."

He pointed to the first few cabins, and I paled. "You don't just choose a cabin, Percy. It depends on who your parents are. Or…your parent." I stared at him, waiting for him to say something.

"My mom is Sally Jackson," I said. "She works at the candy store in Grand Central Station. At least, she used to."

"I'm sorry about your mom, Percy. But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about your other parent. Your dad,"

"He's dead. I never knew him."

I sighed. I think this is the 100th time I have to repeat this. "Your father's not dead, Percy."

"How can you say that? You know him?"

"No, of course not."

"Then how can you say…"

"Because I know you. You wouldn't be here if you weren't one of us."

"You don't know anything about me."

"No?" She raised an eyebrow. "I bet you moved around from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them."

"How…"

"Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too."

He tried not to look embarrassed. Sure got him this time! Way to go, Annabeth. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Taken together, it's almost a sure sign. The letters float off the page when you read, right? That's because your mind is hardwired for ancient Greek. And the ADHD—you're impulsive, can't sit still in the classroom. That's your battlefield reflexes. In a real fight, they'd keep you alive. As for the attention problems, that's because you see too much, Percy, not too little. Your senses are better than a regular mortal's. Of course the teachers want you medicated. Most of them are monsters. They don't want you seeing them for what they are."

"You sound like ... you went through the same thing?"

"Most of the kids here did. If you weren't like us, you couldn't have survived the Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar."

"Ambrosia and nectar."

"The food and drink we were giving you to make you better. That stuff would've killed a normal kid. It would've turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand and you'd be dead. Face it. You're a half-blood."


	2. Chapter 2

_Next chapter. Hope you like it. Please review and this is not real._

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Percy Jackson._

Annabeth Chase POV

Clarisse is wonderful. Wonderful at ruining moments that is. He looked as though he just might understand. He might say something nice or… No, Annabeth Chase! Don't _you_even think about liking him. Luke is the one for you. Then, I realized that this was the first time I ever thought about any boy who isn't Luke.

"Well, a newbie!" Clarisse shouted, shaking me into reality.

Percy and I looked over. Clarisse was sauntering toward us with three other girls behind her.

"Clarisse," I sighed, annoyed. "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?"

"Sure, Miss Princess," Clarisse said. "So I can run you through with it Friday night."

''Erre es korakas!" I shouted (which was Greek for 'Go to the crows!'). "You don't stand a chance."

"We'll pulverize you," Clarisse said, but her eye twitched. I smirked inwardly. She wasn't sure she could follow through on the threat. She turned toward him. "Who's this little runt?"

"Percy Jackson," I answered, "meet Clarisse, Daughter of Ares."

He blinked. "Like ... the war god?"

Clarisse sneered. "You got a problem with that?"

"No," he said, recovering my wits. "It explains the bad smell." Stupid idea.

Clarisse growled. "We got an initiation ceremony for newbies, Prissy."

"Percy." This is getting from bad to worse.

"Whatever. Come on, I'll show you."

"Clarisse—" I started.

"Stay out of it, wise girl." Clarisse advised, sneering.

I cringed. Clarisse was stronger than me even if I don't like it. Why does she always target the people I'm in charge of.

He didn't seem to want help anyway. He handed me his Minotaur horn and got ready to fight, but before he knew what was going on, Clarisse had him by the neck and was dragging him toward the bathroom.

He struggled wildly trying not to be forced into the girls' bathroom but in the end, she still succeeded.

Clarisse's friends were all laughing, and he was still trying to defeat Clarisse and friends.

"Like he's 'Big Three' material," Clarisse said as she pushed him toward one of the toilets. "Yeah, right. Minotaur probably fell over laughing, he was so stupid looking."

Her friends snickered.

I stood in the corner, watching through my fingers. Let him be alright, I thought hopefully, forgetting all about Luke again.

Clarisse started pushing Percy's head into the toilet bow when something happened. Water shot out of the toilet, making an arc straight over Percy's head, and the next thing I knew, he was sprawled on the bathroom tiles with Clarisse and friends screaming behind him.

He turned just as water blasted out of the toilet again, hitting Clarisse straight in the face so hard it pushed her down onto her butt. The water stayed on her like the spray from a fire hose, pushing her backward into a shower stall.

She struggled, gasping, and her friends started coming toward her. But then the other toilets exploded, too, and six more streams of toilet water blasted them back. The showers acted up, too, and together all the fixtures sprayed the camouflage girls right out of the bathroom, spinning them around like pieces of garbage being washed away.

As soon as they were out the door, the water stopped.

The entire bathroom was flooded. I hadn't been spared. I was dripping wet, but I hadn't been pushed out of the door. Lucky for him. _I_wouldn't spare _him_if he had done what he did to _them_to me.

That's when I looked at him and realize that he was dry. Completely dry. Part of me cursed him for not letting me stay dry to but I decided not to voice it out. Part of me knew he probably couldn't control but still, I asked, "How did you ..."

"I don't know." He replied, looking as confused as I was.

We walked to the door. Outside, Clarisse and her friends were sprawled in the mud, and a bunch of other campers had gathered around to gawk. Clarisse's hair was flattened across her face. Her camouflage jacket was sopping and she smelled like sewage. She gave Percy a look of absolute hatred.

"You are dead, new boy. You are totally dead."

Someone smart would have keep their mouth shut but he said, "You want to gargle with toilet water again, Clarisse? Close your mouth."

Her friends had to hold her back. They dragged her toward cabin five, while the other campers made way to avoid her flailing feet.

Wow, I thought. I could use him in my team for capture the flag. He was perfect for a bait. Except he's new and probably wouldn't last long but still…

"What?" he demanded. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking," she voiced, "that I want you on my team for capture the flag."

Word of the bathroom incident spread immediately. Wherever we went, campers pointed at him and murmured something about toilet water. Or maybe they were just staring at me, who was still pretty much dripping wet.

I showed him a few more places: the metal shop, the arts-and-crafts room, and the climbing wall, which actually consisted of two facing walls that shook violently, dropped boulders, sprayed lava, and clashed together if you didn't get to the top fast enough.

Finally we returned to the canoeing lake, where the trail led back to the cabins.

"I've got training to do," I said flatly. "Dinner's at seven-thirty. Just follow your cabin to the mess hall."

"Annabeth, I'm sorry about the toilets."

"Whatever."

"It wasn't my fault."

I stared at him. Obviously he was the one who controlled the water. Controlled the water, I thought. Please, don't let it be what I'm thinking.

"You need to talk to the Oracle," I advised.

"Who?"

"Not who. What. The Oracle. I'll ask Chiron."

He looked into the lake and some naiads waved at him and he waved back.

"Don't encourage them," I warned. "Naiads are terrible flirts."

"Naiads," he repeated. "That's it. I want to go home now."

I frowned. "Don't you get it, Percy? You are home. This is the only safe place on earth for kids like us."

"You mean, mentally disturbed kids?"

"I mean not human. Not totally human, anyway. Half-human."

"Half-human and half-what?"

"I think you know."

"God," I said. "Half-god."

I nodded. He was finally getting it. "Your father isn't dead, Percy. He's one of the Olympians."

"That's ... crazy."

"Is it? What's the most common thing gods did in the old stories? They ran around falling in love with humans and having kids with them. Do you think they've changed their habits in the last few millennia?"

"But those are just—" I guessed he wanted to say myth like the others always do but he controlled himself and said, "But if all the kids here are half-gods—"

"Demigods," I said. "That's the official term. Or half-bloods."

"Then who's your dad?"

My hands tightened around the pier railing. I wanted to I punch him but instead, I replied. "My dad is a professor at West Point," she said. "I haven't seen him since I was very small. He teaches American history."

"He's human."

"What? You assume it has to be a male god who finds a human female attractive? How sexist is that?"

"Who's your mom, then?"

"Cabin six."

"Meaning?"

I straightened with dignity. "Athena. Goddess of wisdom and battle."

"And my dad?"

"Undetermined," I said, "like I told you before. Nobody knows."

"Except my mother. She knew."

"Maybe not, Percy. Gods don't always reveal their identities."

"My dad would have. He loved her."

I looked at him for a moment. He just lost his mum. I shouldn't push him too hard. "Maybe you're right. Maybe he'll send a sign. That's the only way to know for sure: your father has to send you a sign claiming you as his son. Sometimes it happens."

"You mean sometimes it doesn't?" Oh gosh, I really don't want to answer but looking at him, my heart skipped a beat and I answered. "The gods are busy. They have a lot of kids and they don't always ... Well, sometimes they don't care about us, Percy. They ignore us."

He thought for a moment and asked, "So I'm stuck here, that's it? For the rest of my life?"

"It depends," I said, kind of bored. I've already lost count of how many times I've repeated this.

"Some campers only stay the summer. If you're a child of Aphrodite or Demeter, you're probably not a real powerful force. The monsters might ignore you, so you can get by with a few months of summer training and live in the mortal world the rest of the year. But for some of us, it's too dangerous to leave. We're year-rounders. In the mortal world, we attract monsters. They sense us. They come to challenge us. Most of the time, they'll ignore us until we're old enough to cause trouble—about ten or eleven years old, but after that, most demigods either make their way here, or they get killed off. A few manage to survive in the outside world and become famous. Believe me, if I told you the names, you'd know them. Some don't even realize they're demigods. But very, very few are like that."

"So monsters can't get in here?"

I shook her head. "Not unless they're intentionally stocked in the woods or specially summoned by somebody on the inside."

"Why would anybody want to summon a monster?"

"Practice fights. Practical jokes."

"Practical jokes?"

"The point is, the borders are sealed to keep mortals and monsters out. From the outside, mortals look into the valley and see nothing unusual, just a strawberry farm."

"So ... you're a year-rounder?"

I nodded. From under the collar of my T-shirt, I pulled the leather necklace with five clay beads of different colors. The one that has the same number of beads as Luke.

"I've been here since I was seven," I told him. "Every August, on the last day of summer session, you get a bead for surviving another year. I've been here longer than most of the counselors, and they're all in college."

"Why did you come so young?"

She twisted the ring on her necklace. "None of your business."

"Oh." I stood there for a minute in uncomfortable silence. "So ... I could just walk out of here right now if I wanted to?"

"It would be suicide, but you could, with Mr. D's or Chiron's permission. But they wouldn't give permission until the end of the summer session unless ..."

"Unless?"

"You were granted a quest. But that hardly ever happens. The last time ..."

My voice trailed off as I thought of Luke's quest to steal the golden apple. He went with Travis and Connor's sister, Janet and Flora, Janet's best friend from Demeter's cabin and when he came back, he was alone with nobody but a new scar. I wanted to go but I was too young.

"Back in the sick room," he said, "when you were feeding me that stuff—"

"Ambrosia."

"Yeah. You asked me something about the summer solstice."

I felt my shoulders tensed. "So you do know something?"

"Well... no. Back at my old school, I overheard Grover and Chiron talking about it. Grover mentioned the summer solstice. He said something like we didn't have much time, because of the deadline. What did that mean?"

I clenched my fists. "I wish I knew. Chiron and the satyrs, they know, but they won't tell me. Something is wrong in Olympus, something pretty major. Last time I was there, everything seemed so normal ."

"You've been to Olympus?"

"Some of us year-rounders—Luke and Clarisse and I and a few others—we took a field trip during winter solstice. That's when the gods have their big annual council."

"But... how did you get there?"

"The Long Island Railroad, of course. You get off at Penn Station. Empire State Building, special elevator to the six hundredth floor." I stared at him. "You are a New Yorker, right?"

"Oh, sure."

"Right after we visited," I continued, "the weather got weird, as if the gods had started fighting. A couple of times since, I've overheard satyrs talking. The best I can figure out is that something important was stolen. And if it isn't returned by summer solstice, there's going to be trouble. When you came, I was hoping ... I mean— Athena can get along with just about anybody, except for Ares. And of course she's got the rivalry with Poseidon. But, I mean, aside from that, I thought we could work together. I thought you might know something."

I shook my head. I wished I could help her, but I felt too hungry and tired and mentally overloaded to ask any more questions."

"I've got to get a quest," I muttered to myself. "I'm not too young. If they would just tell me the problem ..."

I heard his stomach growl so I asked him to go on without me first.


	3. Chapter 3

Next time I saw Percy… halt, Annabeth. You haven been thinking much about Luke since the day Percy came but you never stopped loving him, did you? Every time you think about him, you feel tingly all over and blush when you're near him.

You feel irritated with Percy sometimes but you want to hear his comforting voice. You want to see his warm smile… No! I like, no love, Luke Castellan. No one else. But I haven't seen him recently so… Argh! Forget it.

"Not bad, hero." I whispered behind him, invisible with the Yankees baseball cap, my mother's present. Oh heck, what did I call him? Luke was the hero.

"Where the heck did you learn to fight like that?" I asked. Taking off my Yankee baseball cap.

"You set me up," he replied angrily. "You put me here because you knew Clarisse would come after me, while you sent Luke around the flank. You had it all figured out."

I shrugged. "I told you. Athena always, always has a plan."

"A plan to get me pulverized."

"I came as fast as I could. I was about to jump in, but ..." I shrugged. "You didn't need help."

"How did you do that?" I asked staring at his ex-wounded arm.

"Sword cut," he said. "What do you think?"

"No. It was a sword cut. Look at it."

The blood was gone. Where the huge cut had been, there was a long white scratch, and even that was fading. Slowly, it turned into a small scar.

"I—I don't get it," he stuttered.

I looked down at Clarisse's broken spear and said, "Step out of the water, Percy."

"What—"

"Just do it."

He came out of the creek and almost fell over, but I steadied him. No way! I always thought the child of prophecy would refer to a child of Zeus that I could work with. I never imagined it to be… be…

"Oh, Styx," I cursed. "This is not good. I didn't want ... I assumed it would be Zeus... ."

Before I could explain, I heard that canine growl. A howl ripped through the forest. The campers' cheering died instantly. Chiron shouted "Stand ready! My bow!" in Ancient Greek.

A hellhound jumped out of the forest and looked straight at Percy.

"Percy, run!" I yelled, worried that he'd get injured.

I tried to step in front of him, but the hound was too fast. It leaped over me and I thought Percy would never make it when from the hounds neck sprouted a cluster of arrows. The monster fell dead.

Chiron trotted up next to us, a bow in his hand, his face grim.

"Di immortales!" I cried. "That's a hellhound from the Fields of Punishment. They don't ... they're not supposed to ..."

"Someone summoned it," Chiron said. "Someone inside the camp."

Luke came over, the banner in his hand forgotten, his moment of glory gone. Sad for him, I thought, remembering him for the first time since I saw started talking to Percy.

Clarisse yelled, "It's all Percy's fault! Percy summoned it!" Yeah, right. He just got here, half of him doesn't believe in the gods but he summoned a hellhound that nearly got himself killed. I nearly snorted.

"Be quiet, child," Chiron told her.

We watched the body of the hellhound melt into shadow, soaking into the ground until it disappeared.

"You're wounded," I told him. "Quick, Percy, get in the water."

"I'm okay."

"No, you're not," I said. "Chiron, watch this."

He stepped back into the creek and the cuts on his chest closing up. Some of the campers gasped.

"Look, I—I don't know why," he apologized. "I'm sorry..."

But they weren't watching his wounds heal. They were staring at dreaded trident sign on top of his head. He had been claimed by Poseidon.

"Percy," I said, pointing. "Um ..."

He looked up and saw the fading sign.

"Your father," I murmured. "This is really not good."

"It is determined," Chiron announced. And everyone kneeled down.

"My father?" he asked, bewildered.

"Poseidon," said Chiron. "Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God."

For the next few days, people were treating him like a freak. I admit, even I did but hey, I didn't work well with a son of Poseidon. My mom was Poseidon rival, right?

After a while, Chiron decided that he would go on the quest to get the master bolt. I plead Chiron to let me go and Chiron agreed, to my enormous surprise. I didn't care if he was the son of Poseidon, nor that this quest was a suicide. I would be getting a quest and with a cute boy too. What! What did I just thought him as? I pushed that thought away as I listened to Dionysus verbal abuse him and then leave.

Then, Chiron told him about the master bolt, he went to the oracle, I revealed myself and blah blah…

Finally, we were ready.

"This is Argus," Chiron told him. "He will drive you into the city, and, er, well, keep an eye on things."

I heard footsteps behind us. Luke came running up the hill, carrying a pair of basketball shoes.

"Hey!" he panted. "Glad I caught you."

I blushed, the usual.

"Just wanted to say good luck," Luke told him. "And I thought ... um, maybe you could use these."

He handed him the sneakers then said, "Maia!"

White bird's wings sprouted out of the heels, startling him so much, he dropped them. The shoes flapped around on the ground until the wings folded up and disappeared.

"Awesome!" Grover said.

Luke smiled. "Those served me well when I was on my quest. Gift from Dad. Of course, I don't use them much these days..." His expression turned sad.

"Hey, man," I said. "Thanks."

"Listen, Percy ..." Luke looked uncomfortable (strange, Luke wasn't often uncomfortable). "A lot of hopes are riding on you. So just ... kill some monsters for me, okay?"

They shook hands. Luke patted Grover's head between his horns, then gave a good-bye hug to me and I felt like fainting.

After Luke was gone, he said, "You're hyperventilating."

"Am not."

"You let him capture the flag instead of you, didn't you?"

"Oh ... why do I want to go anywhere with you, Percy?" But what he said was true, I reasoned.

I stomped down the other side of the hill, where Argus car was and Argus followed, jingling his car keys.

I heard him ask. "I won't be able to use these, will I?"

Chiron: Luke meant well, Percy. But taking to the air ... that would not be wise for you. (of course, Luke's nice to everyone, especially Thalia…Hey girl, you're getting jealous of a tree?)

Percy: Hey, Grover. You want a magic item?

Grover: Me?

After a while I heard…

Grover: Maia!

I turned a bit and saw that he got off the ground okay, but then fell over sideways so his backpack dragged through the grass. The winged shoes kept bucking up and down like tiny broncos.

"Practice," Chiron called after him. "You just need practice!"

"Aaaaa!" Grover went flying sideways down the hill like a possessed lawn mower, heading toward the van, where I was.

I ducked and when I got up, I heard Chiron say, "I should have trained you better, Percy. If only I had more time. Hercules, Jason—they all got more training."

Percy: That's okay. I just wish—

Chiron: What am I thinking? I can't let you get away without this.

Chiron pulled a pen from his coat pocket and handed it to me. Oh my god, Percy's so lucky. He's going to get Riptide. It's like the coolest weapon here!

"Gee," he said. "Thanks."

"Percy, that's a gift from your father. I've kept it for years, not knowing you were who I was waiting for. But the prophecy is clear to me now. You are the one." The one, prophecy? No way! He can't be the child of the prophecy. I wish Thalia didn't… But if Thalia didn't, Luke would have died. You don't want that do you? Hey, I thought, Thalia's my friend too! I sighed. I'm getting so mixed up.

He took off the cap, and the pen turned into a bronze sword with a double-edged blade, a leather-wrapped grip, and a flat hilt riveted with gold studs "The sword has a long and tragic history that we need not go into," Chiron told me. "Its name is Anaklusmos."

"'Riptide,'" he translated, surprising me so much I nearly fell. Grover steadied me, his eyes full of laughter. I punched him.

Chiron :Use it only for emergencies, and only against monsters. No hero should harm mortals unless absolutely necessary, of course, but this sword wouldn't harm them in any case."

He looked at the Riptide and asked like an idiot, "What do you mean it wouldn't harm mortals? How could it not?" Obviously, it's celestial bronze.

"The sword is celestial bronze. Forged by the Cyclopes, tempered in the heart of Mount Etna, cooled in the River Lethe. It's deadly to monsters, to any creature from the Underworld, provided they don't kill you first. But the blade will pass through mortals like an illusion. They simply are not important enough for the blade to kill. And I should warn you: as a demigod, you can be killed by either celestial or normal weapons. You are twice as vulnerable."

"Good to know."

"Now recap the pen."

He recapped it and suddenly, Chiron said, "You can't,"

"Can't what?"

"Lose the pen," he said. "It is enchanted. It will always reappear in your pocket. Try it." I smirked. So Percy, the great guy who killed the minotaur, was afraid of losing a pen.

He threw the pen as far as he could down the hill and watched it disappear in the grass.

"It may take a few moments," Chiron told him. "Now check your pocket."

His hand went into his pocket and took out the pen.

"Okay, that's extremely cool," he admitted. "But what if a mortal sees me pulling out a sword?"

Chiron smiled. "Mist is a powerful thing, Percy."

"Mist?"

"Yes. Read The Iliad (already done that over don't know how many times). It's full of references to the stuff. Whenever divine or monstrous elements mix with the mortal world, they generate Mist, which obscures the vision of humans. You will see things just as they are, being a half-blood, but humans will interpret things quite differently. Remarkable, really, the lengths to which humans will go to fit things into their version of reality."

He put Riptide back into his pocket.

Then, he asked the idiotic question.

Percy: Chiron, when you say the gods are immortal... I mean, there was a time before them, right?"

Chiron: Four ages before them, actually. The Time of the Titans was the Fourth Age, sometimes called the Golden Age, which is definitely a misnomer. This, the time of Western civilization and the rule of Zeus, is the Fifth Age.

Percy: So what was it like ... before the gods?

Chiron: *pursing his lips* Even I am not old enough to remember that, child, but I know it was a time of darkness and savagery for mortals. Kronos, the lord of the Titans, called his reign the Golden Age because men lived innocent and free of all knowledge. But that was mere propaganda. The Titan king cared nothing for your kind except as appetizers or a source of cheap entertainment. It was only in the early reign of Lord Zeus, when Prometheus the good Titan brought fire to mankind, that your species began to progress, and even then Prometheus was branded a radical thinker. Zeus punished him severely, as you may recall. Of course, eventually the gods warmed to humans, and Western civilization was born."

Percy: But the gods can't die now, right? I mean, as long as Western civilization is alive, they're alive. So ... even if I failed, nothing could happen so bad it would mess up everything, right?" (See, idiotic)

Chiron: No one knows how long the Age of the West will last, Percy. The gods are immortal, yes. But then, so were the Titans. They still exist, locked away in their various prisons, forced to endure endless pain and punishment, reduced in power, but still very much alive. May the Fates forbid that the gods should ever suffer such a doom, or that we should ever return to the darkness and chaos of the past. All we can do, child, is follow our destiny.

Percy: Our destiny ... assuming we know what that is.

Chiron: Relax, keep a clear head. And remember, you may be about to prevent the biggest war in human history. (How can anyone relax knowing that?"

Percy: Relax, I'm very relaxed.

I rolled my eyes and Grover stifled a giggle.

_Writing this is really hard. Using Annabeth POV is no imagination at all and kind of boring so can someone please review? Thanks_


	4. Chapter 4

_Hope you'll enjoy it and I do not own PJO. I just feel like doing it. Please review._

Annabeth Chase's POV

Argus drove us out of the countryside and into western Long Island. It felt weird to be on the outside world. Like a fantasy. I haven't been to the outside world since I was seven. Tears swarm into my eyes as I remembered the fateful night Thalia…

"So far so good," Percy told me. "Ten miles and not a single monster."

I look at him, irritated. "It's bad luck to talk that way, seaweed brain."

"Remind me again—why do you hate me so much?"

"I don't hate you." That was partially through. I hate him for making me forget Luke so many times when I was with him but he gave me a safe, comfortable and even carefree feeling.

"Could've fooled me."

I folded my cap of invisibility. "Look ... we're just not supposed to get along, okay? Our parents are rivals."

"Why?"

I sighed. Gods, sometimes, he was so irritating. "How many reasons do you want? One time my mom caught Poseidon with his girlfriend in Athena's temple, which is hugely disrespectful. Another time, Athena and Poseidon competed to be the patron god for the city of Athens. Your dad created some stupid saltwater spring for his gift. My mom created the olive tree. The people saw that her gift was better, so they named the city after her."

"They must really like olives."

"Oh, forget it."

"Now, if she'd invented pizza—thatI could understand."

"I said, forget it!"

In the front seat, Argus smiled. He didn't say anything, but one blue eye on the back of his neck winked at him. I glared at Argus.

Traffic slowed us down in … somewhere. By the time we got into Manhattan it was sunset and starting to rain. Argus dropped us at a Station on the Upper East Side. I saw Percy rip something off and I raised my eyebrows but I decided not to question.

Argus unloaded our bags, made sure we got our bus tickets, then drove away, the eye on the back of his hand opening to watch us as he pulled out of the parking lot.

Grover shouldered his backpack. He gazed down the street in the direction he was looking. "You want to know why she married him, Percy?"

Percy stared at him. "Were you reading my mind or some-thing?"

"Just your emotions." He shrugged. "Guess I forgot to tell you satyrs can do that. You were thinking about your mom and your stepdad, right?"

"Your mom married Gabe for you," Grover told him. "You call him 'Smelly,' but you've got no idea. The guy has this aura…. Yuck. I can smell him from here. I can smell traces of him on you, and you haven't been near him for a week."

"Thanks," Percy said. "Where's the nearest shower?"

"You should be grateful, Percy. Your stepfather smells so repulsively human he could mask the presence of any demigod. As soon as I took a whiff inside his Camaro, I knew: Gabe has been covering your scent for years. If you hadn't lived with him every summer, you probably would've been found by monsters a long time ago. Your mom stayed with him to protect you. She was a smart lady. She must've loved you a lot to put up with that guy—if that makes you feel any better."

I pitied Percy's mom. Doing so much just to keep that cute son of Poseidon safe. Wait… the what son of Poseidon? Something is seriously wrong with me. Or him.

The rain kept coming down.

We got restless waiting for the bus and decided to play some Hacky Sack with one of Grover's apples.

Percy was okay I guess but I was better. I had 'training' when playing with Grover other times so I could bounce the apple off her knee, her elbow, her shoulder…

The game ended when Percy tossed the apple toward Grover and it got too close to his mouth. In one mega goat bite, our Hacky Sack disappeared—core, stem, and all.

Grover blushed. He tried to apologize, but Percy and I were laughing too hard to care.

Finally the bus came. As we stood in line to board, Grover started looking around, sniffing the air like he smelled his favorite school cafeteria delicacy—enchiladas.

"What is it?" Percy asked.

"I don't know," he said tensely. "Maybe it's nothing."

It probably was something but I didn't ask. I didn't want to put him in a spot. Percy started looking over his shoulder nervously, too.

We were relieved when we finally got on board and found seats together in the back of the bus. We stowed our back-packs. I kept slapping her Yankees cap nervously against my thigh. Then I saw _her._ Percy's ex-pre-algebra teacher and friends, the kindly ones. I clamped my hand onto his knee. "Percy."

Percy, finally understanding what I was trying to say, scrunched down in his seat, though I doubt it would help. At least he was smart enough to react.

They sat in the front row, right behind the driver. The two on the aisle crossed their legs over the walkway, making an X. It was casual enough, but it sent a clear message: nobody leaves.

The bus pulled out of the station, and we headed through the slick streets of Manhattan. "She didn't stay dead long," Percy said, his voice quivering. "I thought you said they could be dispelled for a lifetime."

"I said if you're lucky," I said. "You're obvioously not."

"All three of them," Grover whimpered."Di immortales!"

"It's okay," I said, trying not to panic. "The Furies. The three worst monsters from the Underworld. No problem. No problem. We'll just slip out the windows."

"They don't open," Grover moaned.

"A back exit?" I suggested. There's got to be a suggestion that works.

There wasn't one. Even if there had been, it wouldn't have helped. By that time, we were on Ninth Avenue, heading for the Lincoln Tunnel.

"They won't attack us with witnesses around," Percy asked stupidly. "Will they?"

"Mortals don't have good eyes," I reminded him. "Their brains can only process what they see through the Mist."

"They'll see three old ladies killing us, won't they?"

I thought about it. Not a bad thought but I didn't want to give him the satisfication so, "Hard to say. But we can't count on mortals for help. Maybe an emergency exit in the roof ... ?"

We hit the Lincoln Tunnel, and the bus went dark except for the running lights down the aisle. It was eerily quiet without the sound of the rain.

Alecto, I think, got up. In a flat voice, as if she'd rehearsed it, she announced to the whole bus: "I need to use the restroom."

"So do I," said the Magaera.

"So do I," said the Tisiphone.

They all started coming down the aisle.

"I've got it," I said. "Percy, take my hat."

"What?"

"You're the one they want. Turn invisible and go up the aisle. Let them pass you. Maybe you can get to the front and get away."

"But you guys—"

"There's an outside chance they might not notice us," I said. "You're a son of one of the Big Three. Your smell might be overpowering."

"I can't just leave you."

"Don't worry about us," Grover said. "Go!"

He put it on and disappear.

After a while, Alecto stopped, sniffing, and looked at a spot, probably where Percy was. My heart was pounding, begging the gods to let her miss him.

Apparently she didn't see anything. They kept going.

When they finally reached us, they turn back into their original form.

The Furies surrounded Grover and I, lashing their whips, hissing: "Where is it? Where?" 'it' I thought. Percy's definitely no animal and I don't think the Furies makes that kind of mistake.

The other people on the bus were screaming, cowering in their seats. They saw something, all right.

"He's not here!" I yelled. "He's gone!"

The Furies raised their whips.

I drew her bronze knife, hoping I wasn't shaking. Grover grabbed a tin can from his snack bag and prepared to throw it.

What happened next was so sudden that even I didn't expect it. The bus jerked right and everyone fell out of their seats, howling.

"Hey!" the driver yelled. "Hey—whoa!"

The steering was acting for 'itself'. Not bad Percy, I thought. We careened out of the Lincoln Tunnel and back into the rainstorm, people and monsters tossed around the bus, cars plowed aside like bowling pins.

Somehow the driver found an exit. We shot off the highway, through half a dozen traffic lights, and ended up barreling down one of those New Jersey rural roads where you can't believe there's so much nothing right across the river from New York. There were woods to our left, the Hudson River to our right, and the driver seemed to be veering toward the river.

Then, someone (probably Percy) hit the emergency brake.

The bus wailed, spun a full circle on the wet asphalt, and crashed into the trees. The emergency lights came on. The door flew open. The bus driver was the first one out, the passengers yelling as they stampeded after him.

The Furies regained their balance. They lashed their whips at me while I waved my knife and yelled in Ancient Greek, telling them to back off. Grover threw tin cans.

Suddenly, Percy appeared and shouted, "Hey!" What a dumb boy!

The Furies turned, baring their yellow fangs at him, and the exit suddenly seemed like an excellent idea.

Alecto stalked up the aisle and every time she flicked her whip, red flames danced along the barbed leather.

Her two ugly sisters hopped on top of the seats on either side of her and crawled toward him like huge nasty lizards.

"Perseus Jackson," Alecto said. "You have offended the gods. You shall die."

"I liked you better as a math teacher," he told her and she growled. Two… I mean four idiots.

Grover and I moved up behind the Furies cautiously, looking for an opening.

He took Riptide and uncapped it. Riptide elongated into a shimmering double-edged sword.

The Furies hesitated.

"Submit now," Alecto hissed. "And you will not suffer eternal torment."

"Nice try," he told her.

"Percy, look out!" I cried, worried for him (again).

Alecto lashed her whip around his sword hand while the Furies on the either side lunged at him.

He stuck the Magaera with Riptide's hilt, sending her toppling backward into a seat. He turned and sliced Tisiphone.

As soon as the blade connected with her neck, she screamed and exploded into dust. I got Alecto in a wrestler's hold and yanked her backward while Grover ripped the whip out of her hands.

"Ow!"he yelled."Ow! Hot! Hot!"

Magaera came at him again, talons ready, but he swung Riptide and she broke open like a piñata.

Alecto was trying to get me off my back. She kicked, clawed, hissed and bit, but I held on while Grover got Alecto's legs tied up in her own whip. Finally we shoved her backward into the aisle. Alecto tried to get up, but she didn't have room to flap her bat wings, so she kept falling down.

"Zeus will destroy you!" she promised. "Hades will have your soul!"

"Braccas meas vescimini!" yelled Percy and I looked at him impressed but I don't think he noticed. He just said "Eat my pants!" Latin!

"Get out!" I yelled at Percy. "Now!" He didn't need any encouragement.

We rushed outside and found the other passengers wandering around in a daze, arguing with the driver, or running around in circles yelling, "We're going to die!" A Hawaiian-shirted tourist with a camera snapped Percy's photograph before Percy could recap his sword.

"Our bags!" Grover realized. "We left our—"

BOOOOOM!

The windows of the bus exploded as the passengers ran for cover. Lightning shredded a huge crater in the roof, but an angry wail from inside told me Alecto was not yet dead.

"Run!" I yelled. "She's calling for reinforcements! We have to get out of here!"

We plunged into the woods as the rain poured down, the bus in flames behind us, and nothing but darkness ahead.


	5. Chapter 5

_New chapter. Enjoy. :)_

Annabeth Chase's POV

The bus was not wrecked so I guess we had to walk. Percy and Grover and I had to walk through the woods along the New Jersey riverbank, the glow of New York City making the night sky yellow behind us, and the smell of the Hudson reeking in our noses.

Grover was shivering and braying, his big goat eyes turned slit-pupiled and full of terror. "Three Kindly Ones. All three at once."

I was pretty much in shock myself. Last time I met all three at once was with Thalia and Luke and Thalia defeated them. About a few second after that victory, something very unpleasant which I'll try not to mention happened.

I knew more monsters would come so I kept pulling us along, saying: "Come on! The farther away we get, the better." I didn't want it to happen the same as last time.

"All our money was back there," Percy reminded me. "Our food and clothes. Everything." Could he not be so negative?

"Well, maybe if you hadn't decided to jump into the fight—"

"What did you want me to do? Let you get killed?"

"You didn't need to protect me, Percy. I would've been fine."

"Sliced like sandwich bread," Grover put in, "but fine."

"Shut up, goat boy," I said, genuinely annoyed but I knew it was true.

Grover brayed mournfully. "Tin cans ... a perfectly good bag of tin cans."

We sloshed across mushy ground, through nasty twisted trees that smelled like sour laundry.

After a few minutes, I fell into line next to me deciding that I shouldn't be so mean. It wasn't his fault that his father is Poseidon. "Look, I..." My voice faltered. Boy, I didn't know that apologizing was this hard. "I appreciate your coming back for us, okay? That was really brave."

"We're a team, right?" Oh, gee. Can you stop being nice, I wondered. You are making me guilty, I said to him, silently so he couldn't hear.

"It's just that if you died ... aside from the fact that it would really suck for you, it would mean the quest was over. This may be my only chance to see the real world." I told him, hoping he wouldn't be upset.

After a while, he asked, "You haven't left Camp Half-Blood since you were seven?"

"No ... only short field trips. My dad—"

"The history professor."

"Yeah. It didn't work out for me living at home. I mean, Camp Half-Bloodis my home." I realize I was rushing now. I wanted to tell him. I didn't want to be stopped. "At camp you train and train. And that's all cool and everything, but the real world is where the monsters are. That's where you learn whether you're any good or not." I wondered, once again if I was good enough to survive.

"You're pretty good with that knife," I said.

"You think so?"

"Anybody who can piggyback ride a Fury is okay by me." I smiled.

"You know," I said, wanting to tell him about the kindly ones saying "where is it" instead of "where is he", "maybe I should tell you ... Something funny back on the bus ..."

Grover horrible and shrill reed pipe sounded. I knew because "Hey, my reed pipes still work!" Grover cried. "If I could just remember a 'find path' song, we could get out of these woods!"

I was about to tell him not to when he puffed out a few notes and instead of finding a path, Percy immediately slammed into a tree and got a nice-size knot on his head. I giggled but I think he was too distracted to hear.

After a mile, I smelled something I haven't in one… two… three… four… five years. So long I couldn't even remember what it is.

We kept walking until I saw a deserted two-lane road through the trees. On the other side was a closed-down gas station, a tattered billboard for a 1990s movie, and one open business, which was the source of the neon light and the good smell.

In front of us was one of those weird roadside curio shops that sell lawn flamingos and wooden Indians and cement grizzly bears and stuff like that. The main building was a long, low warehouse, surrounded by acres of statuary. The neon sign above the gate was impossible for me to read because of my dyslexia.

To me, it looked like:ATNUY SEM GEDARN GEMON MEROPIUM.

"What the heck does that say?" Percy asked.

"I don't know," I replied. He must be asking Grover anyway because he should know I have dyslexia.

Grover translated: "Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium."

Flanking the entrance, as advertised, were two cement garden gnomes, ugly bearded little runts, smiling and waving, as if they were about to get their picture taken.

Percy crossed the street, following the long-lost smell.

"Hey ..." Grover warned.

"The lights are on inside," I said. "Maybe it's open."

"Snack bar," Percy said wistfully.

"Snack bar," I agreed.

"Are you two crazy?" Grover said. "This place is weird."

We ignored him.

The front lot was a forest of statues: cement animals, cement children, even a cement satyr playing the pipes, which gave Grover the creeps.

"Bla-ha-ha!" he bleated. "Looks like my Uncle Ferdinand!"

We stopped at the warehouse door.

"Don't knock," Grover pleaded. "I smell monsters."

"Your nose is clogged up from the Furies," I told him, desperately wanting to go to the long-lost smell. "All I smell is burgers. Aren't you hungry?"

"Meat!" he said scornfully. "I'm a vegetarian."

"You eat cheese enchiladas and aluminum cans," Percy reminded him. Doesn't he know those are considered vegetables?

"Those are vegetables. Come on. Let's leave. These statues are ... looking at me."

Then the door creaked open, and standing in front of us was a tall woman who wore a long black gown that covered everything but her hands, and her head was completely veiled. Her eyes glinted behind a curtain of black gauze, but that was about all I could make out. Her coffee-colored hands looked old, but well-manicured and elegant, so I must have been pretty before.

Her accent sounded strange, too. Something I haven't heard before. She said, "Children, it is too late to be out all alone.

Where are your parents?"

"They're ... um ..." I started to say, thinking desperately for something.

"We're orphans," Percy said.

"Orphans?" the woman said. The word sounded alien in her mouth. "But, my dears! Surely not!"

"We got separated from our caravan," I said. "Our circus caravan. The ringmaster told us to meet him at the gas station if we got lost, but he may have forgotten, or maybe he meant a different gas station. Anyway, we're lost. Is that food I smell?"

"Oh, my dears," the woman said. "You must come in, poor children. I am Aunty Em. Go straight through to the back of the warehouse, please. There is a dining area."

We thanked her and went inside.

I muttered to him, "Circus caravan?" But it was the best idea he had so far.

"Always have a strategy, right?"

"Your head is full of kelp." Though, this time, not completely true. I wasn't going to tell him that.

The warehouse was filled with more statues—people in all different poses, wearing all different outfits and with different expressions on their faces. I was thinking you'd have to have a pretty huge garden to fit even one of these statues, because they were all life-size. But mostly, I was thinking about food.

I barely noticed Grover's nervous whimpers, or the way the statues' eyes seemed to follow me, or the fact that Aunty Em had locked the door behind us.

All I cared about was finding the dining area. And sure enough, there it was at the back of the warehouse, a fast-food counter with a grill, a soda fountain, a pretzel heater, and a nacho cheese dispenser. Everything you could want, plus a few steel picnic tables out front.

"Please, sit down," Aunty Em said.

"Awesome," Percy said.

"Um," Grover said reluctantly, "we don't have any money, ma'am."

I expected Aunty Em to chase us out but instead, she said, "No, no, children. No money. This is a special case, yes? It is my treat, for such nice orphans."

"Thank you, ma'am," I said.

"Quite all right, Annabeth," she said. "You have such beautiful gray eyes, child." Only later did I wonder how she knew my name, even though we had never introduced ourselves.

Our hostess disappeared behind the snack counter and started cooking. Before we knew it, she'd brought us plastic trays heaped with double cheeseburgers, vanilla shakes, and XXL servings of French fries.

I slurped her shake which was unusual because I care about my image a lot.

Grover picked at the fries, and eyed the tray's waxed paper liner as if he might go for that, but he still looked too nervous to eat.

"What's that hissing noise?" he asked.

Percy listened, but didn't seem to hear anything. I shook my head.

"Hissing?" Aunty Em asked. "Perhaps you hear the deep-fryer oil. You have keen ears, Grover."

"I take vitamins. For my ears."

"That's admirable," she said. "But please, relax."

Aunty Em ate nothing. She hadn't taken off her head-dress, even to cook, and now she sat forward and interlaced her fingers and watched us eat. It was a little unsettling, having someone stare at me when I couldn't see her face, but I was too hungry to care.

"So, you sell gnomes," Percy said, obviously trying to sound interested.

"Oh, yes," Aunty Em said. "And animals. And people. Anything for the garden. Custom orders. Statuary is very popular, you know."

"A lot of business on this road?"

"Not so much, no. Since the highway was built... most cars, they do not go this way now. I must cherish every customer I get."

Percy must have felt something because turned so I turned a bit too, but it was just a statue of a young girl holding an Easter basket. The detail was incredible, much better than you see in most garden statues. But something was wrong with her face. It looked as if she were startled, or even terrified.

"Ah," Aunty Em said sadly. "You notice some of my creations do not turn out well. They are marred. They do not sell. The face is the hardest to get right. Always the face."

"You make these statues yourself?" I asked.

"Oh, yes. Once upon a time, I had two sisters to help me in the business, but they have passed on, and Aunty Em is alone. I have only my statues. This is why I make them, you see. They are my company."

Wait! Wasn't that the story of… Could this be who I think she is? She would want me dead then. The best option now is to force Percy to leave. Grover would be delighted to leave.

I stopped eating. I sat forward and said, "Two sisters?"

"It's a terrible story," Aunty Em said. "Not one for children, really. You see, Annabeth, a bad woman was jealous of me, long ago, when I was young. I had a... a boyfriend, you know, and this bad woman was determined to break us apart. She caused a terrible accident. My sisters stayed by me. They shared my bad fortune as long as they could, but eventually they passed on. They faded away. I alone have survived, but at a price. Such a price."

Now I was sure I knew who she was.

"Percy?" I was shaking him to get his attention. "Maybe we should go. I mean, the ringmaster will be waiting."

"Such beautiful gray eyes," Aunty Em told me again. "My, yes, it has been a long time since I've seen gray eyes like those."

She reached out as if to stroke my cheek but I stood up abruptly.

"We really should go."

"Yes!" Grover swallowed his waxed paper and stood up. He seemed very grateful that at least one of the demigods here, namely me, had sense. "The ringmaster is waiting! Right!"

"Please, dears," Aunty Em pleaded. "I so rarely get to be with children. Before you go, won't you at least sit for a pose?"

"A pose?" I asked suspiciously.

"A photograph. I will use it to model a new statue set. Children are so popular, you see. Everyone loves children."

I shifted my weight from foot to foot thinking about what are the possibilities of Percy agreeing with me. After all, it's his father's ex-girlfriend here, I thought angrily. Percy wasn't born, I chided myself. I wasn't being fair towards him. "I don't think we can, ma'am. Come on, Percy—"

"Sure we can," Percy said, irritated. "It's just a photo, Annabeth. What's the harm?"

"Yes, Annabeth," the woman purred. "No harm."

I didn't like it, but I allowed Aunty Em to lead us back out the front door, into the garden of statues.

Aunty Em directed us to a park bench next to the stone satyr. "Now," she said, "I'll just position you correctly. The young girl in the middle, I think, and the two young gentlemen on either side."

"Not much light for a photo," Percy remarked.

"Oh, enough," Aunty Em said. "Enough for us to see each other, yes?"

"Where's your camera?" Grover asked. This is Medusa. She didn't need one, I thought.

Aunty Em stepped back, as if to admire the shot. "Now, the face is the most difficult. Can you smile for me please, everyone? A large smile?"

Grover glanced at the cement satyr next to him, and mumbled, "That sure does look like Uncle Ferdinand."

"Grover," Aunty Em chastised, "look this way, dear."

She still had no camera in her hands.

"Percy—" I said, trying to warn him.

"I will just be a moment," Aunty Em said. "You know, I can't see you very well in this cursed veil..."

"Percy, something's wrong," I insisted. Once she take of her veil, we were in big trouble.

"Wrong?" Aunty Em said, reaching up to undo the wrap around her head. "Not at all, dear. I have such noble company tonight. What could be wrong?"

"That is Uncle Ferdinand!" Grover gasped.

"Look away from her!" I shouted. I whipped my Yankees cap onto my head and vanished.

I pushed Grover and Percy both off the bench.

Percy was on the ground, looking at Aunt Em's sandaled feet.

I could hear Grover scrambling off in one direction, and I scrambled in the other direction. Percy, the idiot, didn't move.

Percy started looking up and almost looked at her in the eyes when I screamed, "No! Don't!"

"Run!" Grover bleated. I heard him racing across the gravel, yelling, "Maia!" to kick-start his flying sneakers.

"Such a pity to destroy a handsome young face," she told him soothingly. "Stay with me, Percy. All you have to do is look up."

Luckily, he looked to one side and saw one of those glass spheres people put in gardens— a gazing ball and saw her image.

"The Gray-Eyed One did this to me, Percy," Medusa said, and she didn't sound anything like a monster. It was sweet and warm.

"Annabeth's mother, the cursed Athena, turned me from a beautiful woman into this."

"Don't listen to her!" I shouted from the statuary. "Run, Percy!"

"Silence!" Medusa snarled at me. Then her voice modulated back to a comforting purr. "You see why I must destroy the girl, Percy. She is my enemy's daughter. I shall crush her statue to dust. But you, dear Percy, you need not suffer."

"No," Percy muttered. At least he seemed to be struggling.

"Do you really want to help the gods?" Medusa asked. "Do you understand what awaits you on this foolish quest, Percy? What will happen if you reach the Underworld? Do not be a pawn of the Olympians, my dear. You would be better off as a statue. Less pain. Less pain."

"Percy!" Grover yelled, diving towards Medusa. Then he yelled, "Duck!"

Percy finally turned, and saw Grover holding a tree branch the size of a baseball bat. His eyes were shut tight, his head twitched from side to side. He was navigating by ears and nose alone.

"Duck!" he yelled again. "I'll get her!"

That finally jolted Percy into action. He dove to one side.

Thwack! Grover hit Medusa! YES!

"You miserable satyr," she snarled. "I'll add you to my collection!"

"That was for Uncle Ferdinand!" Grover yelled back.

He scrambled away and hid in the statuary where I was while Grover swooped down for another pass.

Ker-whack!

"Arrgh!" Medusa yelled, her snake-hair hissing and spit-ting.

"Percy!" I called to him, still invisible.

He jumped so high his feet nearly cleared a garden gnome. Idiot, I thought for the don't-know-how-many times. Have he forgotten that I was here invisible all this time? "Jeez! Don't do that!"

I took off my Yankees cap and became visible. 'You have to cut her head off."

"What? Are you crazy? Let's get out of here."

"Medusa is a menace. She's evil. I'd kill her myself, but..." I swallowed, I hate being unable to do something and let others do it for me. "But you've got the better weapon. Besides, I'd never get close to her. She'd slice me to bits because of my mother. You—you've got a chance."

"What? I can't—"

"Look, do you want her turning more innocent people into statues?"

I pointed to a pair of statue lovers, a man and a woman with their arms around each other, turned to stone by the monster.

I grabbed a green gazing ball from a nearby pedestal. "A polished shield would be better." I studied the sphere critically. "The convexity will cause some distortion. The reflection's size should be off by a factor of—"

"Would you speak English?"

"I am!" I tossed him the glass ball. "Just look at her in the glass. Never look at her directly."

"Hey, guys!" Grover yelled somewhere above us. "I think she's unconscious!"

"Roooaaarrr!"

"Maybe not," Grover corrected. He went in for another pass with the tree branch.

"Hurry," I told him. "Grover's got a great nose, but he'll eventually crash."

He took out his pen and uncapped it. The bronze blade of Riptide elongated in his hand.

I couldn't look at Medusa but after a while, I heard Medusa croon, "You wouldn't harm an old woman, Percy. I know you wouldn't."

Something must've been going on because Grover moaned, "Percy, don't listen to her!" Wow, now even Grover is smarter than Percy.

Medusa cackled. "Too late."

After that, she must have lunged because there was the sound of monster disintegrating.

"Oh, yuck," Grover said. "Mega-yuck."

I came up next to Percy, my eyes fixed on the sky. I was holding Medusa's black veil. I said, "Don't move."

Very carefully, without looking down, I knelt and draped the monster's head in black cloth, then picked it up. It was still dripping green juice.

"Are you okay?" I asked her, my voice trembling from worry for him.

"Yeah," Percy decided. "Why didn't ... why didn't the head evaporate?"

"Once you sever it, it becomes a spoil of war," I said. "Same as your minotaur horn. But don't unwrap the head. It can still petrify you."

Grover moaned as he climbed down from the grizzly statue. He had a big welt on his forehead. His green rasta cap hung from one of his little goat horns, and his fake feet had been knocked off his hooves. The magic sneakers were flying aimlessly around his head.

"The Red Baron," Percy said. "Good job, man."

Grover managed a bashful grin. "That really was not fun, though. Well, the hitting-her-with-a-stick part, that was fun. But crashing into a concrete bear? Not fun."

He snatched his shoes out of the air. Percy recapped his sword. Together, the three of us stumbled back to the warehouse.


	6. Chapter 6

**Annabeth Chase's POV**

We found some old plastic grocery bags behind the snack counter and double-wrapped Medusa's head.

We plopped it on the table where we'd eaten dinner and sat around it, too exhausted to speak.

Finally Percy said, "So we have Athena to thank for this monster?" So the first thing he could think of is to annoy me.

I flashed him an irritated look. "Your dad, actually. Don't you remember? Medusa was Poseidon's girl-friend. They decided to meet in my mother's temple. That's why Athena turned her into a monster. Medusa and her two sisters who had helped her get into the temple, they became the three gorgons. That's why Medusa wanted to slice me up, but she wanted to preserve you as a nice statue. She's still sweet on your dad. You probably reminded her of him."

Percy face turned bright red. "Oh, so now it's my fault we met Medusa."

I straightened and in a bad imitation of Percy's voice, I said: "'It's just a photo, Annabeth. What's the harm?'"

"Forget it," he said, his face even brighter. "You're impossible."

"You're insufferable."

"You're—"

"Hey!" Grover interrupted. "You two are giving me a migraine, and satyrs don't even get migraines. What are we going to do with the head?"

Both Percy and I turned to look at Medusa's ugly head. One little snake was hanging out of a hole in the plastic. The words printed on the side of the bag said: WE APPRECIATE YOUR BUSINESS!

Suddenly, Percy got up. "I'll be back."

"Percy," I called after him, hoping he wasn't going to do something stupid. "What are you—"

After a while, he came back to the picnic table, packed up Medusa's head, and filled out a delivery slip:

_The Gods_

_Mount Olympus_

_600th Floor,_

_Empire State Building_

_New York, NY_

_With best wishes,_

_PERCY JACKSON_

"They're not going to like that," Grover warned. "They'll think you're impertinent."

He poured some golden drachmas in the pouch. As soon as he closed it, there was a sound like a cash register. The package floated off the table and disappeared with a pop! Amazing, I thought.

"I am impertinent," he said.

He looked at me, as though daring me to criticize.

I sighed inwardly. He was sure good at angering gods.

"Come on," I muttered. "We need a new plan."

We camped out in the woods, a hundred yards from the main road, in a marshy clearing that local kids had obviously been using for parties. The ground was littered with flattened soda cans and fast-food wrappers.

We'd taken some food and blankets from Aunty Em's, but we didn't dare light a fire to dry our damp clothes. The Furies and Medusa had provided enough excitement for one day. We didn't want to attract anything else.

We decided to sleep in shifts. I volunteered to take first watch.

I was tired so I curled up and sleep immediately. You would be tired if you had to face 2 dangerous monsters in a day.

After what seem like a minute or two, Grover shook me awake.

"Why so early?" I grumbled.

"I found somethi… well someone," Grover replied. Who would be in the middle of the woods. I turned around and saw a pink poodle.

"Annabeth, meet Gladiola. Gladiola, Annabeth."

"I'm supposed to say 'hi' to a poodle?" I asked, trying not to sound offended. I knew Grover could talk to animals.

Grover nodded, "She's our ticket west. Returning her will get us money to buy tickets." I sighed inwardly but I guessed we don't have any other idea.

"Umm… Hi, Gladiola." Grover smiled but the poodle didn't seem as happy. Well, at least I have the pleasure of watching Seaweed Brain saying 'hi' to a dog. I grinned but turn away so Grover won't see.

I shook him hard. Finally, his eyes opened.

"Well," I said sarcastically, "the zombie lives."

"How long was I asleep?"

"Long enough for me to cook breakfast." I tossed him a bag of nacho-flavored corn chips from Aunty Em's snack bar. "And Grover went exploring. Look, he found a friend."

He turned and saw the poodle but it seemed to take time, a lot of it, to focus on it and see what it is.

The poodle yapped at him suspiciously. Grover said, "No, he's not." I'm glad the poodle didn't yap at me.

Percy blinked. "Are you ... talking to that thing?" The poodle growled.

"This thing," Grover warned, "is our ticket west. Be nice to him."

"You can talk to animals?"

Grover ignored the question. "Percy, meet Gladiola. Gladiola, Percy."

Percy stared at me and I wandered if he has gone nuts through the night. I stared back at him.

"I'm not saying hello to a pink poodle," he said. "Forget it."

"Percy," I said. "I said hello to the poodle. You say hello to the poodle."

The poodle growled. Percy looked nervous but he said, "Hi, Gladiola." I hid my smile. He looked so silly saying hi to a dog.

Grover explained that he'd come across Gladiola in the woods and they'd struck up a conversation. The poodle had run away from a rich local family, who'd posted a $200 reward for his return. Gladiola didn't really want to go back to his family, but he was willing to if it meant helping Grover.

"How does Gladiola know about the reward?" Percy asked, like an idiot again.

"He read the signs," Grover said. "Duh."

"Of course," Percy said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Silly me."

"So we turn in Gladiola," I explained in my strategy voice, "we get money, and we buy tickets to Los Angeles. Simple."

"Not another bus," Percy said warily.

"No," I agreed. We had enough of bus for a mission. In fact, we had enough monsters for a mission.

I pointed downhill, toward train tracks. "There's an Amtrak station half a mile that way. According to Gladiola, the west-bound train leaves at noon."

We spent two days on the Amtrak train, heading west through hills, over rivers, past amber waves of grain.

We weren't attacked once and I was relieved. Maybe this mission won't turn out the same way as the last.

Percy had to keep a low profile because he was now on newspaper. His fifteen minute of fame.

The picture's caption read:

Twelve-year-old Percy Jackson, wanted for questioning in the Long Island disappearance of his mother two weeks ago, is shown here fleeing from the bus where he accosted several elderly female passengers.

The bus exploded on an east New Jersey roadside shortly after Jackson fled the scene. Based on eyewitness accounts, police believe the boy may be traveling with two teenage accomplices. His stepfather, Gabe Ugliano, has offered a cash reward for information leading to his capture.

"Don't worry," I told him. "Mortal police could never find us." I would protect him but I'm not sure if I'm able to.

Our reward money for returning Gladiola the poodle had only been enough to purchase tickets as far as Denver. We couldn't get berths in the sleeper car, so we dozed in our seats.

I watched Percy sleep sure that he would drool. He hardly did but he did mumble "won't help you". I'm sure he was stopping himself. I wish he wouldn't. Hey, I thought again. Think Luke.

Percy didn't sleep long, however, because Grover kept snoring and bleating. Once, he shuffled around and his fake foot fell off. Percy and I had to stick it back on before any of the other passengers noticed.

"So," I asked Percy, once we'd gotten Grover's sneaker readjusted. "Who wants your help?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you were asleep just now, you mumbled, 'I won't help you.' Who were you dreaming about?"

He was reluctant but he told me about his dreams. He had two of the similar dreams, both with someone from Tartarus trying to use him to pull himself out. Not Hades and hopefully, not who I think.

After a while, I told him my thoughts. Not the whole but part of it. "That doesn't sound like Hades. He always appears on a black throne, and he never laughs."

"He offered my mother in trade. Who else could do that?"

"I guess ... if he meant, 'Help me rise from the Underworld.' If he wants war with the Olympians. But why ask you to bring him the master bolt if he already has it?"

He shook his head.

I readjusted his cap so it covered his horns. "Percy, you can't barter with Hades. You know that, right? He's deceitful, heartless, and greedy. I don't care if his Kindly Ones weren't as aggressive this time—"

"This time?" I asked. "You mean you've run into them before?" Oh gods, I've just as well told him about Thalia and Luke.

Unconsciously, my hand crept up to my necklace and I fingered the pine tree, thinking of what Hades monsters have done to her. She was so good, so good she even beat Luke. Nobody except Luke and I knew that. "Let's just say I've got no love for the Lord of the Dead. You can't be tempted to make a deal for your mom."

"What would you do if it was your dad?"

"That's easy," I replied, not completely honest. "I'd leave him to rot."

"You're not serious?"

"My dad's resented me since the day I was born, Percy," I said. "He never wanted a baby. When he got me, he asked Athena to take me back and raise me on Olympus because he was too busy with his work. She wasn't happy about that. She told him heroes had to be raised by their mortal parent."

"But how ... I mean, I guess you weren't born in a hospital..."

"I appeared on my father's doorstep, in a golden cradle, carried down from Olympus by Zephyr the West Wind. You'd think my dad would remember that as a miracle, right? Like, maybe he'd take some digital photos or some-thing. But he always talked about my arrival as if it were the most inconvenient thing that had ever happened to him. When I was five he got married and totally forgot about Athena. He got a 'regular' mortal wife, and had two 'regular' mortal kids, and tried to pretend I didn't exist."

Percy stared out of the window, probably feeling sorry for me. I may not have a good real family but Thalia and Luke are good enough. Except Thalia… Well, if he wants to feel sorry for someone, feel sorry for _her_.

"My mom married a really awful guy," I told her, probably trying to make me feel better. "Grover said she did it to protect me, to hide me in the scent of a human family. Maybe that's what your dad was thinking."

I didn't realize but I was pinching the gold college ring that hung with the beads.

"He doesn't care about me," I said, trying not to cry. "His wife—my stepmom—treated me like a freak. She wouldn't let me play with her children. My dad went along with her. Whenever something dangerous happened—you know, something with monsters—they would both look at me resentfully, like, 'How dare you put our family at risk.' Finally, I took the hint. I wasn't wanted. I ran away."

"How old were you?"

"Same age as when I started camp. Seven."

"But ... you couldn't have gotten all the way to Half-Blood Hill by yourself."

"Not alone, no. Athena watched over me, guided me toward help. I made a couple of unexpected friends who took care of me, for a short time, anyway." I didn't tell him about it.


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: Percy Jackson and the Olympians = Not mine_

Toward the end of our second day on the train, June 13, eight days before the summer solstice, we passed through some golden hills and over the Mississippi River into St. Louis then finally arriving at the Gateway Arch. I knew we were going to pass there sometime soon and I was so looking forward to it. I craned my neck to see it. I mean, duh, who wouldn't. It's like such an amazing place. I don't want to miss seeing something like that

"I want to do that," I sighed.

"What?" Percy asked and I mumbled "idiot" but I don't think he heard.

"Build something like that. You ever see the Parthenon, Percy?"

"Only in pictures."

"Someday, I'm going to see it in person. I'm going to build the greatest monument to the gods, ever. Something that'll last a thousand years."

Percy laughed. "You? An architect?" I got furious and my cheeks flushed. What's wrong with being an architect. At least it's a somebody. What could he be? An Olympic swimmer? More like a criminal swimmer.

"Yes, an architect. Athena expects her children to create things, not just tear them down, like a certain god of earthquakes I could mention."

Percy watched the churning brown water of the Mississippi below and, remembering what happened to Clarisse, I apologised. Hey, who wants to be splashed with that contaminated and polluted water?

"Sorry," I said. "That was mean."

"Can't we work together a little?" Percy pleaded to my surprise. I thought he'd be mad. Anger I could handle. Pleading? Give me a monster anyday. "I mean, didn't Athena and Poseidon ever cooperate?"

I had to think about it, of course. I wasn't expecting this. I was expecting argument. "I guess ... the char-iot," I said tentatively. "My mom invented it, but Poseidon created horses out of the crests of waves. So they had to work together to make it complete."

"Then we can cooperate, too. Right?"

I didn't want to answer that. Not that I didn't want to work with him but the fact that I suddenly remembered how nice a person could be. The guy who killed the Minotaur let me, a young Athena daughter, follow him to the quest and now pleading to work with me. I excused myself by watching the Arch until it disappeared behind a hotel.

"I suppose," I said at last.

We pulled into the Amtrak station downtown. The intercom told us we'd have a three-hour layover before departing for Denver.

Grover stretched. Before he was even fully awake, he said, "Food."

"Come on, goat boy," I said, enthusiastically. "Sightseeing."

"Sightseeing?"

"The Gateway Arch," I said. "This may be my only chance to ride to the top. Are you coming or not?"

Grover and Percy exchanged looks. I frowned but they seemed to busy to notice.

Grover shrugged. "As long as there's a snack bar without monsters."

The Arch was about a mile from the train station. Late in the day the lines to get in weren't that long. We threaded our way through the underground museum, looking at the most amazing things that you could see. They were literary treasures! I Annabeth kept telling them interesting facts about how the Arch was built but I peek and saw Grover passing Percy jelly beans, so maybe they were just the ignorant type like Travis and Connor.

I couldn't stop myself from thinking about all the time Thalia and Luke listen to me talking about monuments for hours. They never got bored and just keep listening unlike these two.

"You smell anything?" I heard Percy murmured to Grover. Seriously, what could be wrong in this enchanting place?

Grover paused for a moment, maybe chewing on a jelly bean. "Underground," he said distastefully. "Underground air always smells like monsters. Probably doesn't mean anything." Right, like in brooklyn when that Cyclops… never mind. I had to remind myself it was _not_ Grover's fault.

"Guys," Percy said. "You know the gods' symbols of power?"

I had been in the middle of reading about the construction equipment used to build the Arch, but I looked over. If he had said anything less practical, I probably would have ignored though. "Yeah?"

"Well, Hade—"

Grover cleared his throat. "We're in a public place... You mean, our friend downstairs?"

"Um, right," Percy said. "Our friend way downstairs. Doesn't he have a hat like Annabeth's?"

"You mean the Helm of Darkness," I said. "Yeah, that's his symbol of power. I saw it next to his seat during the winter solstice council meeting."

"He was there?" Percy asked.

I nodded. "It's the only time he's allowed to visit Olympus—the darkest day of the year. But his helm is a lot more powerful than my invisibility hat, if what I've heard is true..."

"It allows him to become darkness," Grover confirmed. "He can melt into shadow or pass through walls. He can't be touched, or seen, or heard. And he can radiate fear so intense it can drive you insane or stop your heart. Why do you think all rational creatures fear the dark?"

"But then ... how do we know he's not here right now, watching us?" I asked.

Grover and I exchanged looks. Of course we don't but what can we do about it? Silly boy.

"We don't," Grover said.

"Thanks, that makes me feel a lot better," Percy said. "Got any blue jelly beans left?"

When we arrived, we got shoehorned into the car with this big fat lady and her dog, a Chihuahua with a rhinestone collar. I figured maybe the dog was a seeing-eye Chihuahua, because none of the guards said a word about it.

We started going up, inside the Arch. I'd never been in an elevator that went in a curve, and my stomach wasn't too happy about it but I so wasn't going to say it. I was thinking about all the things that the architect should've done when my thoughts were interrupted.

"No parents?" the fat lady asked us.

She had beady eyes; pointy, coffee-stained teeth; a floppy denim hat, and a denim dress that bulged so much, she looked like a blue-jean blimp.

"They're below," I told her before Percy or Grover could say something silly. "Scared of heights."

"Oh, the poor darlings."

The Chihuahua growled. The woman said, "Now, now, sonny. Behave." The dog had beady eyes like its owner, intelligent and vicious.

Percy said, "Sonny. Is that his name?"

"No," the lady told him. Then she smiled real creepy, as if that cleared everything up.

At the top of the Arch on the observation deck, the view was great, but being confined six hundred feet in the air wasn't really great but I still enjoyed. I told them all about structural supports, and how I would've made the windows bigger, and designed a see-through floor. I could've stayed up there for hours, but unfortunately for me the park ranger announced that the observation deck would be closing in a few minutes.

Percy steered Grover and I toward the exit, loaded them into the elevator, and was about to get in himself when I realized there were already two other tourists inside. No room for him.

The park ranger said, "Next car, sir."

"We'll get out," I said. "We'll wait with you."

But he said, "Naw, it's okay. I'll see you guys at the bottom."

Grover and I both were nervous, but we let the elevator door slide shut. What else could we do? From our car, I watched Percy disappear from view, still slightly worried. I just had a feeling something terrible that could get him killed would happen but hey, I was no satyr. My feelings were probably just nonsense.

I was so wrong. Percy did not come down in the next elevator. Some freak accident happened and only a mother and son came down screaming about a gigantic fire-breathing Chihuahua and a snake-lady and a boy who jumped down to the Mississippi. I have a very strong feeling who was the idiot who jumped but still, I hoped he would be alive.

"He's dead, Annabeth. It's my fault. I will never be able to search for Pan. I am the most lousy Satyr ever! I made you lose two friends. First, Thalia and now, Percy," Grover moaned.

"Shut up," I nearly shouted. "Percy's not my friend" But I cared. I knew I did. "And don't even mention _her_." I didn't want to think about. But he was right. Not about the part it was his fault. I lost two friends. Now who do I have left? Luke who hardly talk to me anymore since Thalia…

"Probably not a terrorist attack, we're told, but it's still very early in the investigation. The damage, as you can see, is very serious. We're trying to get to some of the survivors, to question them about eyewitness reports of someone falling from the Arch." A news lady talking for the camera interrupted my depressed thoughts.

"Let's continue searching. Maybe, maybe…" I walked on, not able to think about maybe what.

"... an adolescent boy," another reporter was saying. "Channel Five has learned that surveillance cameras show an adolescent boy going wild on the observation deck, somehow setting off this freak explosion. Hard to believe, John, but that's what we're hearing. Again, no confirmed fatalities ..."

How could this be Percy's fault. Hello? Son of Sea God setting fire. So possible, I rolled my eyes.

We had almost lost hope of ever finding Percy when I finally spotted him and pointed him out to Grover. We dashed towards him and Grover yelled, "Perrr-cy!"

As he turned, he got tackled by Grover's bear hug—or goat hug. Grover expressed my feelings for me saying, "We thought you'd gone to Hades the hard way!"

I stood behind him, trying to look angry, but even I was relieved to see him. "We can't leave you alone for five minutes! What happened?"

"I sort of fell."

"Percy! Six hundred and thirty feet?"

Behind us, a cop shouted, "Gangway!" The crowd parted, and a couple of paramedics hustled out, rolling a woman on a stretcher. I recognized her immediately as the mother of the little boy who'd been on the observation deck. She was saying, "And then this huge dog, this huge fire-breathing Chihuahua…"

"Okay, ma'am," the paramedic said. "Just calm down. Your family is fine. The medication is starting to kick in."

"I'm not crazy! This boy jumped out of the hole and the monster disappeared." Then she saw me. "There he is! That's the boy!"

Percy turned quickly and pulled Grover and I after him. We disappeared into the crowd.

"What's going on?" I demanded. "Was she talking about the Chihuahua on the elevator?"

Percy told us that the fat lady was Echidna and the Chihuahua was actually a Chimera. When he was poisoned, having no choice, he jumped down to the Mississippi and somehow survived and was dry. Then this underwater lady gave him a message from his father. Go to Santa Monica.

"Whoa," said Grover. "We've got to get you to Santa Monica! You can't ignore a summons from your dad."

Before I could respond, we passed another reporter doing a news break, and Percy almost froze in his tracks when the reporter said, "Percy Jackson. That's right, Dan. Channel Twelve has learned that the boy who may have caused this explosion fits the description of a young man wanted by authorities for a serious New Jersey bus accident three days ago. And the boy is believed to be traveling west. For our viewers at home, here is a photo of Percy Jackson."

We ducked around the news van and slipped into an alley.

"First things first," Percy told Grover. "We've got to get out of town!"

Somehow, we made it back to the Amtrak station without getting spotted. We got on board the train just before it pulled out for Denver. The train trundled west as darkness fell, police lights still pulsing against the St. Louis skyline behind us.


	8. Chapter 8

_I do not own Percy Jackson. Hope you enjoy and please review._

The next afternoon, June 14, seven days before the solstice, our train rolled into Denver. We hadn't eaten since the night before in the dining car, somewhere in Kansas. We hadn't taken a shower since Half-Blood Hill, which was gross. I know, how about when I ran away? Well, I had privilege. As the youngest, everyone adored me so they let me bathe everyday no matter how far they had to go get it. Sometimes, Thalia even had to take them from puddles. She'd go around collecting from a lot of puddles until I had enough to bath.

"Let's try to contact Chiron," I said. "I want to tell him about your talk with the river spirit."

"We can't use phones, right?"

"I'm not talking about phones." Duh, we're going to iris-message.

We wandered through downtown for about half an hour and it was really uncomfortable. The air was dry and hot, which felt weird after the humidity of St. Louis. Everywhere we turned, the Rocky Mountains seemed to be staring at us, like a tidal wave about to crash into the city.

Finally we found an empty do-it-yourself car wash. We veered toward the stall farthest from the street, keeping our eyes open for patrol cars. We were three adolescents hanging out at a car wash without a car; any cop worth his doughnuts would figure we were up to no good.

"What exactly are we doing?" Percy asked, as Grover took out the spray gun.

"It's seventy-five cents," he grumbled. "I've only got two quarters left. Annabeth?"

"Don't look at me," I replied. "The dining car wiped me out."

Percy fished out a quarter and passed it to Grover.

"Excellent," Grover said. "We could do it with a spray bottle, of course, but the connection isn't as good, and my arm gets tired of pumping."

"What are you talking about?"

He fed in the quarters and set the knob to FINE MIST. "I-M'ing."

"Instant messaging?"

"Iris-messaging," I corrected. "The rainbow goddess Iris carries messages for the gods. If you know how to ask, and she's not too busy, she'll do the same for half-bloods."

"You summon the goddess with a spray gun?"

Grover pointed the nozzle in the air and water hissed out in a thick white mist. "Unless you know an easier way to make a rainbow."

Luckily, late afternoon light filtered through the vapor and broke into colors.

I held my palm out to Percy. "Drachma, please." Percy handed it over. Wow, pretty obedient, I thought.

I raised the coin over my head. "O goddess, accept our offering."

I threw the drachma into the rainbow. It disappeared in a golden shimmer.

"Half-Blood Hill," I requested.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then I was looking through the mist at strawberry fields, and the Long Island Sound in the distance. We seemed to be on the porch of the Big House. Standing with his back to us at the railing was a sandy-haired guy in shorts and an orange tank top. He was holding a bronze sword and seemed to be staring intently at something down in the meadow.

"Luke!" Percy called.

He turned, eyes wide. I could swear he was standing three feet in front of me through a screen of mist, except I could only see the part of him that appeared in the rainbow. I wasn't going to tell Percy that it's my first time since I've been to Camp Half-Blood. I mean, like, I've been here for five years and still never tried iris-messaging? How embarrassing would that be?

"Percy!" His scarred face broke into a grin. "Is that Annabeth, too? Thank the gods! Are you guys okay?"

"We're ... uh ... fine," I stammered. Oh gosh, I thought it would be Chiron or Dionysus, maybe Bekendorf, Silena, Connor, Travis, Katie, even Clarisse but Luke. I madly straightening my dirty T-shirt, trying to comb the loose hair out of my face. "We thought—Chiron—I mean—"

"He's down at the cabins." Luke's smile faded. "We're having some issues with the campers. Listen, is everything cool with you? Is Grover all right?"

"I'm right here," Grover called. He held the nozzle out to one side and stepped into Luke's line of vision.

"What kind of issues?"

Just then a big Lincoln Continental pulled into the car wash with its stereo turned to maximum hip-hop. As the car slid into the next stall, the bass from the subwoofers vibrated so much, it shook the pavement.

"Chiron had to—what's that noise?" Luke yelled.

"I'll take care of it.'" I yelled back, very relieved to have an excuse to get out of sight.

"Grover, come on!

"What?" Grover said. "But—"

Give Percy the nozzle and come on!" I ordered.

Grover muttered something about girls being harder to understand than the Oracle at Delphi, then he handed Percy the spray gun and followed me.

"Hey, lower your volume!" I yelled trying to get the drivers attention.

"What's your problem kid?" Oh, he so hit the wrong spot, I thought. No one calls me kid except Luke and Thalia.

"I knew the knife wouldn't work on him but hey, it didn't have to work. Just scare him.

"Lower it, _now_!" I demanded, holding my knife to his neck. He look around for about ten seconds as though hoping someone would come along ordering me to stop then nodded weakly.

"Wow, fast," commented Grover.

"Girls are hard to understand, huh? That was Luke, man. I told you how I felt before. You're the one I confide in, duh. And look at me! I am in such a mess. He'll think that… that…" I rushed.

"Chill, girl. I got it, kay?" I punched him lightly and said, "Apology accepted, goatboy." We stared at each other and cracked up. We've not used the term "goatboy" since Thalia, well you know, and it felt weird. We walked back round the corner, laughing like the war of the Gods would never happen. Until we saw Percy's face.

My smile faded. "What happened, Percy? What did Luke say?"

"Not much," I said, obviously lying but I pursed my lips and kept quiet. "Come on, let's find some dinner."

A few minutes later, we were sitting at a booth in a gleaming chrome diner. All around us, families were eating burgers and drinking malts and sodas.

Finally the waitress came over. She raised her eyebrow skeptically. "Well?" I wondered where her manners was. Seriously, aren't waitresses supposed to say something like "what would you like to order"? All she said was "well".

Percy said, "We, um, want to order dinner."

"You kids have money to pay for it?"

All Percy did was sit there looking dumb and probably trying to figure out how to eat without having to pay. Luke was much better. He'd just steal and then leave. Suddenly, a rumble shook the whole building and motorcycle the size of a baby elephant had pulled up to the curb. All conversation in the diner stopped. The motorcycle's headlight glared red. Its gas tank had flames painted on it, and a shotgun holster riveted to either side, complete with shotguns. The seat was leather—but leather that looked like ... well, Caucasian human skin.

The guy on the bike would've made pro wrestlers run for Mama. He was dressed in a red muscle shirt and black jeans and a black leather duster, with a hunting knife strapped to his thigh. He wore red wrap around shades, and he had the cruelest, most brutal face I'd ever seen— handsome, I guess, but wicked—with an oily black crew cut and cheeks that were scarred from many, many fights. Ares, one my of mum's enemy. Geez, he wasn't half as scary when he was on Olympus but I wasn't going to say that out loud.

As he walked into the diner, a hot, dry wind blew through the place. All the people rose, as if they were hypnotized, but the biker waved his hand dismissively and they all sat down again. Everybody went back to their conversations. The waitress blinked, as if somebody had just pressed the rewind button on her brain. She asked us again, "You kids have money to pay for it?"

Ares said, "It's on me." He slid into our booth, which was way too small for him, and crowded me against the window. Hmph! He looked up at the waitress, who was gaping at him, and said, "Are you still here?"

He pointed at her, and she stiffened. She turned as if she'd been spun around, then marched back toward the kitchen. Ares looked at Percy and I knew what was going to happen. Percy was rash impulsive, like Thalia. He could just punch Ares if he lose control. Man, why did Ares pick Percy to stare at and make angry. I've got a much better self-control but Ares probably knew that.

He gave Percy a wicked grin. "So you're old Seaweed's kid, huh?"

"What's it to you?" asked Percy. He really need to learn some manners too. This could mean big trouble. I flashed him a warning. "Percy, this is—"

Ares raised his hand.

"S'okay," he said. "I don't mind a little attitude. Long as you remember who's the boss. You know who I am, little cousin?"

"You're Clarisse's dad," he said. "Ares, god of war." Wow, that's so _smart_! Sorry, even a five-year-old demigod could figure that out. What an idiot.

Ares grinned and took off his shades. Where his eyes should've been, there was only fire, empty sockets glowing with miniature nuclear explosions. Creepy. "That's right, punk. I heard you broke Clarisse's spear."

"She was asking for it."

"Probably. That's cool. I don't fight my kids' fights, you know? What I'm here for—I heard you were in town. I got a little proposition for you."

The waitress came back with heaping trays of food—cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings, and chocolate shakes. Ares handed her a few gold drachmas.

She looked nervously at the coins. "But, these aren't..."

Ares pulled out his huge knife and started cleaning his fingernails. "Problem, sweetheart?"

The waitress swallowed, then left with the gold.

"You can't do that," Percy told Ares just what I was thinking. "You can't just threaten people with a knife."

Ares laughed. "Are you kidding? I love this country. Best place since Sparta. Don't you carry a weapon, punk? You should. Dangerous world out there. Which brings me to my proposition. I need you to do me a favor."

"What favor could I do for a god?"

"Something a god doesn't have time to do himself. It's nothing much. I left my shield at an abandoned water park here in town. I was going on a little ... date with my girl-friend. We were interrupted. I left myshield behind. I want you to fetch it for me."

"Why don't you go back and get it yourself?"

The fire in his eye sockets glowed a little hotter.

"Why don't I turn you into a prairie dog and run you over with my Harley? Because I don't feel like it. A god is giving you an opportunity to prove yourself, Percy Jackson. Will you prove yourself a coward?" He leaned forward. "Or maybe you only fight when there's a river to dive into, so your daddy can protect you."

"We're not interested," Percy said, to my surprise. He's such an idiot. "We've already got a quest."

"I know all about your quest, punk. When that item was first stolen, Zeus sent his best out looking for it: Apollo, Athena, Artemis, and me, naturally. If I couldn't sniff out a weapon that powerful ..." He licked his lips, as if the very thought of the master bolt made him hungry. "Well ... if I couldn't find it, you got no hope. Nevertheless, I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. Your dad and I go way back. After all, I'm the one who told him my suspicions about old Corpse Breath."

"You told him Hades stole the bolt?"

"Sure. Framing somebody to start a war. Oldest trick in the book. I recognized it immediately. In a way, you got me to thank for your little quest."

"Thanks," Percy grumbled. Attitude, I wanted to tell him.

"Hey, I'm a generous guy. Just do my little job, and I'll help you on your way. I'll arrange a ride west for you and your friends."

"We're doing fine on our own."

"Yeah, right. No money. No wheels. No clue what you're up against. Help me out, and maybe I'll tell you something you need to know. Something about your mom."

"My mom?"

He grinned. "That got your attention. The water park is a mile west on Delancy. You can't miss it. Look for the Tunnel of Love ride."

"What interrupted your date?" Percy asked rudely. "Something scare you off?" I sighed inwardly.

"You're lucky you met me, punk, and not one of the other Olympians. They're not as forgiving of rudeness as I am. I'll meet you back here when you're done. Don't disappoint me."

Then, Ares clicked his finger and Percy fainted. When I looked back up, he had disappeared. I shrugged at Grover and helped Percy to sit upright and before we could do anything else, his eyelid flew open.

"Not good," Grover said. "Ares sought you out, Percy. This is not good."

"It's probably some kind of trick," Percy said. "Forget Ares. Let's just go."

"We can't," I said. "Look, I hate Ares as much as anybody, but you don't ignore the gods unless you want serious bad fortune. He wasn't kidding about turning you into a rodent."

"Why does he need us?" Seaweed Brain asked.

"Maybe it's a problem that requires brains," I said, part of me not fully believing what I said. "Ares has strength. That's all he has. Even strength has to bow to wisdom sometimes."

"But this water park ... he acted almost scared. What would make a war god run away like that?"

I glanced nervously at Grover. I said, "I'm afraid we'll have to find out."


	9. Chapter 9

The sun was sinking behind the mountains by the time we found the water park. Judging from the sign, it once had been called WATERLAND, but now some of the letters were smashed out, so it read WAT R A D.

The main gate was padlocked and topped with barbed wire. Inside, huge dry waterslides and tubes and pipes curled everywhere, leading to empty pools. Old tickets and advertisements fluttered around the asphalt. With night coming on, the place looked sad and creepy.

"If Ares brings his girlfriend here for a date," Percy said, staring up at the barbed wire, "I'd hate to see what she looks like." Aphrodite would kill him on the spot if she heard this.

"Percy," I warned. "Be more respectful."

"Why? I thought you hated Ares."

"He's still a god. And his girlfriend is very temperamental."

"You don't want to insult her looks," Grover added.

"Who is she? Echidna?" Idiot for the don't-know-how-many time.

"No, Aphrodite," Grover said, a little dreamily. "Goddess of love."

"I thought she was married to somebody," Percy said. "Hephaestus."

"What's your point?" he asked.

"Oh." Percy said suddenly changing the subject probably on purpose. "So how do we get in?"

"Maia!" Grover's shoes sprouted wings.

He flew over the fence, did an unintended somersault in midair, then stumbled to a landing on the opposite side. He dusted off his jeans, as if he'd planned the whole thing. "You guys coming?"

Percy and I had to climb the old-fashioned way, holding down the barbed wire for each other as we crawled over the top.

The shadows grew long as we walked through the park, checking out the attractions. There was Ankle Biter Island, Head Over Wedgie, and Dude, Where's My Swimsuit? No monsters came to get us. Nothing made the slightest noise.

We found a souvenir shop that had been left open. Merchandise still lined the shelves: snow globes, pencils, postcards, and racks of—

"Clothes," I said grinning. "Fresh clothes."

"Yeah," Percy said. "But you can't just—"

"Watch me." I learnt from the son of the God of Thieves before, you know.

I snatched an entire row of stuff of the racks and disappeared into the changing room. A few minutes later she came out in Waterland flower-print shorts, a big red Waterland T-shirt, and commemorative Waterland surf shoes. A Waterland backpack was slung over her shoulder, obviously stuffed with more goodies.

"What the heck." Grover shrugged. Soon, all three of us were decked out like walking advertisements for the defunct theme park. Well, they definitely needed some so we're sort of doing them a favour.

We continued searching for the Tunnel of Love. I got the feeling that the whole park was holding its breath. "So Ares and Aphrodite," Percy said, to keep my mind off the growing dark, "they have a thing going?"

"That's old gossip, Percy," I told Percy. "Three-thousand-year-old gossip."

"What about Aphrodite's husband?"

"Well, you know," I said. "Hephaestus. The black-smith. He was crippled when he was a baby, thrown off Mount Olympus by Zeus. So he isn't exactly handsome. Clever with his hands, and all, but Aphrodite isn't into brains and talent, you know?"

"She likes bikers."

"Whatever."

"Hephaestus knows?"

"Oh sure," I said. "He caught them together once. I mean, literally caught them, in a golden net, and invited all the gods to come and laugh at them. Hephaestus is always trying to embarrass them. That's why they meet in out-of-the-way places, like ..."

I stopped, looking straight ahead. "Like that."

In front of us was an empty pool that would've been awesome for skateboarding. It was at least fifty yards across and shaped like a bowl. Around the rim, a dozen bronze statues of Cupid stood guard with wings spread and bows ready to fire.

On the opposite side from us, a tunnel opened up, probably where the water flowed into when the pool was full. The signabove it read, THRILL RIDE O' LOVE: THIS IS NOT YOUR PARENTS' TUNNEL OF LOVE!

Grover crept toward the edge. "Guys, look."

Marooned at the bottom of the pool was a pink-and-white two-seater boat with a canopy over the top and little hearts painted all over it. In the left seat, glinting in the fading light, was Ares's shield, a polished circle of bronze.

"This is too easy," Percy said. "So we just walk down there and get it?"

I ran her fingers along the base of the nearest Cupid statue.

"There's a Greek letter carved here," I said. "Eta. I wonder ..."

"Grover," Percy said, "you smell any monsters?"

He sniffed the wind. "Nothing."

"Nothing—like, in-the-Arch-and-you-didn't-smell-Echidna nothing, or really nothing?"

Grover looked hurt. "I told you, that was underground."

"Okay, I'm sorry." Percy took a deep breath. "I'm going down there."

"I'll go with you." Grover didn't sound too enthusiastic, but I got the feeling he was trying to make up for what had happened in St. Louis.

"No," Percy told him. "I want you to stay up top with the flying shoes. You're the Red Baron, a flying ace, remember? I'll be counting on you for backup, in case something goes wrong."

Grover puffed up his chest a little. "Sure. But what could go wrong?"

"I don't know. Just a feeling. Annabeth, come with me—"

"Are you kidding?" I stared at him. No way I am going to go with him for the Thrill Ride of Love. My cheeks burned bright red.

"What's the problem now?" Percy demanded.

"Me, go with you to the ... the 'Thrill Ride of Love'? How embarrassing is that? What if somebody saw me?"

"Who's going to see you?" But Percy face was burning now, too. "Fine," Percy told me. "I'll do it myself." But when Percy started down the side of the pool, I followed him knowing he'd probably mess up anyway.

We reached the boat. The shield was propped on one seat, and next to it was a lady's silk scarf. I tried to imagine Ares and Aphrodite here, a couple of gods meeting in a junked-out amusement-park ride.

Why? Then I noticed something I hadn't seen from up top: mirrors all the way around the rim of the pool, facing this spot. We could see ourselves no matter which direction we looked. That must be it. While Ares and Aphrodite were smooching with each other they could look at their favorite people: themselves.

Out of the blue, Percy picked up the scarf. It shimmered pink, and the perfume was indescribable—rose, or mountain laurel. Something good. He smiled, a little dreamy and weird, and was about to rub the scarf against my cheek when I ripped it out of Percy's hand and stuffed it in my pocket. "Oh, no you don't. Stay away from that love magic."

"What?"

"Just get the shield, Seaweed Brain, and let's get out of here."

The moment I touched the shield, I knew we were in trouble. My hand broke through something that had been connecting it to the dashboard. A cobweb, I thought, but then I looked at a strand of it on my palm and saw it was some kind of metal filament, so fine it was almost invisible. A trip wire.

"Wait," I said.

"Too late."

"There's another Greek letter on the side of the boat, another Eta. This is a trap."

Noise erupted all around us, of a million gears grinding, as if the whole pool were turning into one giant machine.

Grover yelled, "Guys!"

Up on the rim, the Cupid statues were drawing their bows into firing position. Before I could suggest taking cover, they shot, but not at us. They fired at each other, across the rim of the pool. Silky cables trailed from the arrows, arcing over the pool and anchoring where they landed to form a huge golden asterisk. Then smaller metallic threads started weaving together magically between the main strands, making a net.

"We have to get out," Percy said.

"Duh!" I replied. I should've known this was a trap. Percy grabbed the shield and we ran, but going up the slope of the pool was not as easy as going down.

"Come on!" Grover shouted.

He was trying to hold open a section of the net for us, but wherever he touched it, the golden threads started to wrap around his hands. The Cupids' heads popped open. Out came video cam-eras. Spotlights rose up all around the pool, blinding us with illumination, and a loudspeaker voice boomed: "Live to Olympus in one minute ... Fifty-nine seconds, fifty-eight ..."

"Hephaestus!" I screamed. "I'm so stupid.' Eta is H.' He made this trap to catch his wife with Ares. Now we're going to be broadcast live to Olympus and look like absolute fools!"

We'd almost made it to the rim when the row of mirrors opened like hatches and thousands of… of metallic spiders poured out. I screamed, naturally. Spiders were enemies of Athena too.

"Spiders!" Annabeth said. "Sp—sp—aaaah!"

I never thought anyone but Thalia and Luke would see this. Percy? Oh gods. My concentration whirled back to the spiders as one of them jumped onto my shoulder. I fell backward in terror and almost got overwhelmed by the spider robots before Percy pulled me up and dragged me back toward the boat.

Percy and I climbed into the boat. I saw Percy started kicking away the spiders as they swarmed aboard. I heard him yelling at me to help him too but I was too terrorized by the spiders to do much more than scream.

"Thirty, twenty-nine," called the loudspeaker.

Then amidst screams I heard…

"Fifteen, fourteen," the loudspeaker called.

"Grover!" Percy yelled. "Get into that booth! Find the 'on' switch!"

"But—"

"Do it!"

"Five, four—"

"Two, one,zero!"

Suddenly, water exploded out of the pipes, pulling me back to reality. It roared into the pool, sweeping away the spiders. He pulled me into the seat next to him and fastened my seat belt just as the tidal wave slammed into our boat, over the top, whisking the spiders away and dousing us completely, but not capsizing us. The boat turned, lifted in the flood, and spun in circles around the whirlpool.

The water was full of short-circuiting spiders, some of them smashing against the pool's concrete wall with such force they burst. Spotlights glared down at us. The Cupid-cams were rolling, live to Olympus. But I could only concentrate on controlling the boat. I willed it to ride the current, to keep away from the wall. Maybe it was my imagination, but the boat seemed to respond. At least, it didn't break into a million pieces. We spun around one last time, the water level now almost high enough to shred us against the metal net. Then the boat's nose turned toward the tunnel and we rocketed through into the darkness.

Percy and I held tight, both of us screaming as the boat shot curls and hugged corners and took forty-five-degree plunges past pictures of Romeo and Juliet and a bunch of other Valentine's Day stuff.

Then we were out of the tunnel, the night air whistling through our hair as the boat barreled straight toward the exit. If the ride had been in working order, we would've sailed off a ramp between the golden Gates of Love and splashed down safely in the exit pool. But there was a problem. The Gates of Love were chained. Two boats that had been washed out of the tunnel before us were now piled against the barricade—one submerged, the other cracked in half.

"Unfasten your seat belt," Percy yelled to me.

"Are you crazy?" but inside I thought that was pretty brilliant.

"Unless you want to get smashed to death." I strapped Ares's shield to my arm. "We're going to have to jump for it." I guessed his idea was using the boat. As the boat struck, we would use its force like a springboard to jump the gate. With luck, we would land in the pool.

"On my mark," Percy said.

"No! On my mark!"

"What?"

"Simple physics!" I yelled. "Force times the trajectory angle—" plus I was smarted than Seaweed Brain, though I wasn't going to say that to him.

"Fine.'" I shouted. "On your mark!" His streak of obedience again?

I hesitated ... hesitated ... then yelled, "Now!"

Crack!

Yes, I got us maximum lift. Unfortunately, that was a little more than we needed. Our boat smashed into the pileup and we were thrown into the air, straight over the gates, over the pool, and down toward solid asphalt. Something grabbed me from behind.

I yelled, "Ouch!" Grover!

In midair, he had grabbed Percy by the shirt, and me by the arm, and was trying to pull us out of a crash landing, but Percy and I had all the momentum.

"You're too heavy!" Grover said. "We're going down!"

We spiraled toward the ground, Grover doing his best to slow the fall.

We smashed into a photo-board, Grover's head going straight into the hole where tourists would put their faces, pretending to be Noo-Noo the Friendly Whale. Percy and I tumbled to the ground, banged up but alive. Ares's shield was still on my arm.

Once we caught our breath, Percy and I got Grover out of the photo-board and thanked him for saving our lives. I looked back at the Thrill Ride of Love. The water was subsiding. Our boat had been smashed to pieces against the gates.

A hundred yards away, at the entrance pool, the Cupids were still filming. The statues had swiveled so that their cameras were trained straight on us, the spotlights in our faces.

Unexpectedly, Percy yelled, "Show's over! Thank you! Good night!"

The Cupids turned back to their original positions. The lights shut off. The park went quiet and dark again, except for the gentle trickle of water into the Thrill Ride of Love's exit pool. I wondered if Olympus had gone to a commercial break, or if our ratings had been any good.

"We need to have a little talk with Ares."


	10. Chapter 10

The war god was waiting for us in the diner parking lot.

"Well, well," he said. "You didn't get yourself killed."

"You knew it was a trap," Percy said.

Ares gave me a wicked grin. "Bet that crippled blacksmith was surprised when he netted a couple of stupid kids. You looked good on TV."

Percy shoved his shield at him. "You're a jerk."

Grover and I caught our breath hoping Ares won't take offence.

Ares grabbed the shield and spun it in the air like pizza dough. It changed form, melting into a bulletproof vest. He slung it across his back.

"See that truck over there?" He pointed to an eighteen-wheeler parked across the street from the diner.

"That's your ride. Take you straight to L.A., with one stop in Vegas."

The eighteen-wheeler had a sign on the back, which I could read only because it was reverse-printed white on black, a good combination for dyslexia:

KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL:

HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT.

WARNING: LIVE WILD ANIMALS.

Percy said, "You're kidding."

Ares snapped his fingers. The back door of the truck unlatched. "Free ride west, punk. Stop complaining. And here's a little something for doing the job."

He slung a blue nylon backpack off his handlebars and tossed it to me.

Inside were fresh clothes for all of us, twenty bucks in cash, a pouch full of golden drachmas, and a bag of Double Stuf Oreos. I said, "I don't want your lousy—"

"Thank you, Lord Ares," Grover interrupted, giving me his best red-alert warning look. "Thanks a lot."

I saw Percy grit his teeth and sigh inwardly with relief. If it was Thalia, she probably shouted out every single thing she thought about him now.

I looked back at the diner, which had only a couple of customers now. The waitress who'd served us dinner was watching nervously out the window, like she was afraid Ares might hurt us. She dragged the fry cook out from the kitchen to see. She said something to him. He nodded, held up a little disposable camera and snapped a picture of us.

Great, I thought. We'll make the papers again tomorrow.

"You owe me one more thing," Percy told Ares, obviously trying to keep his voice level. "You promised me information about my mother."

"You sure you can handle the news?" He kick-started his motorcycle. "She's not dead."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean she was taken away from the Minotaur before she could die. She was turned into a shower of gold, right? That's metamorphosis. Not death. She's being kept."

"Kept. Why?"

"You need to study war, punk. Hostages. You take somebody to control somebody else."

"Nobody's controlling me."

He laughed. "Oh yeah? See you around, kid."

He balled up his fists. "You're pretty smug, Lord Ares, for a guy who runs from Cupid statues."

Behind his sunglasses, fire glowed and I felt a hot wind in my hair. I think we all did. "We'll meet again, Percy Jackson. Next time you're in a fight, watch your back."

He revved his Harley, then roared off down Delancy Street.

"That was not smart, Percy." I said.

"I don't care."

"You don't want a god as your enemy. Especially not that god."

"Hey, guys," Grover said. "I hate to interrupt, but ..."

He pointed toward the diner. At the register, the last two customers were paying their check, two men in identical black coveralls, with a white logo on their backs that matched the one on the KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL truck.

"If we're taking the zoo express," Grover said, "we need to hurry."

We ran across the street and climbed in the back of the big rig, closing the doors behind us. The first thing that hit me was the smell. It was like the world's biggest pan of kitty litter.

The trailer was dark inside until Percy uncapped Anaklusmos. The blade cast a faint bronze light over a very sad scene. Sitting in a row of filthy metal cages were three of the most pathetic zoo animals I'd ever beheld: a zebra, a male albino lion, and some weird antelope thing I didn't know the name for.

Someone had thrown the lion a sack of turnips, which he obviously didn't want to eat. The zebra and the antelope had each gotten a Styrofoam tray of hamburger meat. The zebra's mane was matted with chewing gum, like somebody had been spitting on it in their spare time. The antelope had a stupid silver birthday balloon tied to one of his horns that read OVER THE HILL!

Apparently, nobody had wanted to get close enough to the lion to mess with him, but the poor thing was pacing around on soiled blankets, in a space way too small for him, panting from the stuffy heat of the trailer. He had flies buzzing around his pink eyes and his ribs showed through his white fur. "This is kindness?" Grover yelled. "Humane zoo transport?"

He probably would've gone right back outside to beat up the truckers with his reed pipes, and I would've helped him, but just then the trucks engine roared to life, the trailer started shaking, and we were forced to sit down or fall down.

We huddled in the corner on some mildewed feed sacks, trying to ignore the smell and the heat and the flies. Grover talked to the animals in a series of goat bleats, but they just stared at him sadly. I was all in favor of breaking the cages and freeing them on the spot, but the idiot pointed out it wouldn't do much good until the truck stopped moving. Why does he have to be practical.

Percy found a water jug and refilled their bowls, then used Anaklusmos to drag the mismatched food out of their cages. He then gave the meat to the lion and the turnips to the zebra and the antelope. Wow, good worker and kind enough too. No wonder Grover likes him.

Grover calmed the antelope down, while I used her knife to cut the balloon off his horn. I wanted to cut the gum out of the zebra's mane, too, but we decided that would be too risky with the truck bumping around. We told Grover to promise the animals we'd help them more in the morning, then we settled in for night.

Grover curled up on a turnip sack; I opened our bag of Double Stuf Oreos and nibbled on one halfheartedly. After a long pause, I finally said "Hey, I'm sorry for freaking out back at the water park, Percy."

"That's okay."

"It's just..." I shuddered. "Spiders."

"Because of the Arachne story," Percy guessed. "She got turned into a spider for challenging your mom to a weaving contest, right?" Not bad, I decided. He could be nice to hang around sometimes.

I nodded. "Arachne's children have been taking revenge on the children of Athena ever since. If there's a spider within a mile of me, it'll find me. I hate the creepy little things. Anyway, I owe you."

"We're a team, remember?" Percy said. "Besides, Grover did the fancy flying."

I thought he was asleep, but he mumbled from the corner, "I was pretty amazing, wasn't I?"

Percy and I laughed. I pulled apart an Oreo, handed him half. "In the Iris message ... did Luke really say nothing?"

He munched my cookie and probably trying to find the best way to answer. Finally he said, "Luke said you and he go way back. He also said Grover wouldn't fail this time. Nobody would turn into a pine tree."

Oh my god, he would, and probably have, made the connection. Grover let out a mournful bray.

"I should've told you the truth from the beginning." His voice trembled. "I thought if you knew what a failure I was, you wouldn't want me along."

"You were the satyr who tried to rescue Thalia, the daughter of Zeus."

He nodded glumly.

"And the other two half-bloods Thalia befriended, the ones who got safely to camp ..." Percy looked at me. "That was you and Luke, wasn't it?"

I put down her Oreo, uneaten. "Like you said, Percy, a seven-year-old half-blood wouldn't have made it very far alone. Athena guided me toward help. Thalia was twelve. Luke was fourteen. They'd both run away from home, like me. They were happy to take me with them. They were ... amazing monster-fighters, even without training. We traveled north from Virginia without any real plans, fending off monsters for about two weeks before Grover found us."

"I was supposed to escort Thalia to camp," he said, sniffling.

"Only Thalia. I had strict orders from Chiron: don't do anything that would slow down the rescue. We knew Hades was after her, see, but I couldn't just leave Luke and Annabeth by themselves. I thought ... I thought I could lead all three of them to safety. It was my fault the Kindly Ones caught up with us. I froze. I got scared on the way back to camp and took some wrong turns. If I'd just been a little quicker ..."

"Stop it," I said. "No one blames you. Thalia didn't blame you either." Umm… I think?

"She sacrificed herself to save us," he said miserably, "Her death was my fault. The Council of Cloven Elders said so."

"Because you wouldn't leave two other half-bloods behind?" Percy said. "That's not fair." Whew! He's siding me.

"Percy's right," I said. "I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you, Grover. Neither would Luke. We don't care what the council says."

Grover kept sniffling in the dark. "It's just my luck. I'm the lamest satyr ever, and I find the two most powerful half-bloods of the century, Thalia and Percy."

"You're not lame," I insisted. "You've got more courage than any satyr I've ever met. Name one other who would dare go to the Underworld. I bet Percy is really glad you're here right now."

I kicked me in the shin making sure he didn't say the wrong thing and hurt Grover.

"Yeah," he said. "It's not luck that you found Thalia and me, Grover. You've got the biggest heart of any satyr ever. You're a natural searcher. That's why you'll be the one who finds Pan."

I heard a deep, satisfied sigh. We waited for Grover to say something, but his breathing only got heavier. When the sound turned to snoring, I realized he'd fallen sleep.

"How does he do that?" Percy marveled.

"I don't know," I said. "But that was really a nice thing you told him."

"I meant it."

We rode in silence for a few miles, bumping around on the feed sacks. The zebra munched a turnip. The lion licked the last of the hamburger meat off his lips and looked at me hopefully.

I thought of what we should do once we arrive. Maybe rest for the night and then go find the entrance.

"That pine-tree bead," Percy said, interrupting my thoughts. "Is that from your first year?"

I looked. I didn't realized I was rubbing the necklace.

"Yeah," I said. "Every August, the counselors pick the most important event of the summer, and they paint it on that year's beads. I've got Thalia's pine tree, a Greek trireme on fire, a centaur in a prom dress—now_that_was a weird summer..."

"And the college ring is your father's?"

"That's none of your—" I stopped herself. Not his fault, I calmed myself. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

"You don't have to tell me." He's quite, well understanding sometimes.

"No ... it's okay." I took a shaky breath. "My dad sent it to me folded up in a letter, two summers ago. The ring was, like, his main keepsake from Athena. He wouldn't have gotten through his doctoral program at Harvard without her... That's a long story. Anyway, he said he wanted me to have it. He apologized for being a jerk, said he loved me and missed me. He wanted me to come home and live with him."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"Yeah, well... the problem was, I believed him. I tried to go home for that school year, but my stepmom was the same as ever. She didn't want her kids put in danger by living with a freak. Monsters attacked. We argued. Monsters attacked. We argued. I didn't even make it through winter break. I called Chiron and came right back to Camp Half-Blood."

"You think you'll ever try living with your dad again?"

I wouldn't meet his eyes. If given a chance, I knew deep down I probably would but outside, I said, "Please. I'm not into self-inflicted pain."

"You shouldn't give up," he told me. "You should write him a letter or something."

"Thanks for the advice," I said coldly mainly because I hate advices, "but my father's made his choice about who he wants to live with."

We passed another few miles of awkward silence.

"So if the gods fight," Percy said, "will things line up the way they did with the Trojan War? Will it be Athena versus Poseidon?"

She put her head against the backpack Ares had given us, and closed her eyes. "I don't know what my mom will do. I just know I'll fight next to you."

"Why?"

"Because you're my friend, Seaweed Brain. Any more stupid questions?"

Before he could answer, I was fast asleep. Hey, I was tired.


	11. Chapter 11

It was my idea which finally brought us a little, wait a lot, further. I loaded us into the back of a Vegas taxi as if we actually had money, and told the driver, "Los Angeles, please."

The cabbie chewed his cigar and sized us up. "That's three hundred miles. For that, you gotta pay up front." I hoped this works, I thought

"You accept casino debit cards?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Some of 'em. Same as credit cards. I gotta swipe 'em through first." I handed him my green Lotus Cash card. He looked at it skeptically. I thought he said he had to swipe it? Either he's really slow or he thinks that I am lying that I could pay.

"Swipe it," I invited. He did. His meter machine started rattling. The lights flashed. Finally an infinity symbol came up next to the dollar sign. The cigar fell out of the driver's mouth. He looked back at us, his eyes wide. "Where to in Los Angeles... uh, Your Highness?"

"The Santa Monica Pier." I sat up a little straighter. I couldn't help it. I mean I knew I was the leader of the camp and so does everyone else but they don't, like, say it out loud. No one made me feel superior before.

"Get us there fast, and you can keep the change."

Afterwards, I regretted the fast thing. The cab's speedometer never dipped below ninety-five the whole way through the Mojave Desert. On the road, we had plenty of time to talk. He told Grover and I about his latest dream. He saw a girl, about twelve with black hair and blue eyes. It had to be Thalia. Couldn't be anyone else. Could that mean that Thalia could be revived. Than maybe Luke would stop ignoring me, even if it still means he'd date Thalia. But after a while, Percy just forgot so we only got the main point. No details or confirmation that it was Thalia except for Percy's intuition.

Basically, we just knew that he and a girl were in a straightjacket. She walked forward, opened something, Percy told her to stop for some weird reason and she screamed. And then Hades or who-I-hope-it-isn't and the invisible servant which he claimed that sounded familiar. And the servant called Hades or who-I-feared "my lord" or some special name.

"The Silent One?" I suggested. "The Rich One? Both of those are nicknames for Hades." I wouldn't dare suggest the other option.

"Maybe ..." Percy said, but I knew he was lying through his teeth. That's smart, lying to a child of Athena.

"That throne room sounds like Hades's," Grover said. "That's the way it's usually described."

Percy shook his head. "Something's wrong. The throne room wasn't the main part of the dream. And that voice from the pit ... I don't know. It just didn't feel like a god's voice." My eyes widened. No way, that person coming back would be a nightmare.

"What?" Percy asked. Jeez, he must have noticed.

"Oh ... nothing. I was just—No, it has to be Hades. Maybe he sent this thief, this invisible person, to get the master bolt, and something went wrong—"

"Like what?"

"I—I don't know," she said. "But if he stole Zeus's sym-bol of power from Olympus, and the gods were hunting him, I mean, a lot of things could go wrong. So this thief had to hide the bolt, or he lost it somehow. Anyway, he failed to bring it to Hades. That's what the voice said in your dream, right? The guy failed. That would explain what the Furies were searching for when they came after us on the bus. Maybe they thought we had retrieved the bolt."

I was sure I would vomit soon. The thought of Kronos filled me with more dread and fear I've ever experience. Not even when that Cyclops came and slow us down. At least then I had Thalia and Luke. Now, Thalia's a tree and Luke hardly talks to me.

"But if I'd already retrieved the bolt," Percy said, "why would I be traveling to the Underworld?"

"To threaten Hades," Grover suggested. "To bribe or blackmail him into getting your mom back." Wow, I didn't know Grover think that way. Well, I didn't know that he wouldn't guess something else either. Even Percy could sense it probably wasn't Hades.

Percy whistled. "You have evil thoughts for a goat." What's with the whistle, I thought? Surely evil wasn't a good thing.

"Why, thank you." I rolled my eyes. Boys, I mouthed annoyed but none of them noticed.

"But the thing in the pit said it was waiting for two items," Percy said. "If the master bolt is one, what's the other?"

Grover shook his head, clearly mystified.

I stared at him. He guessed it wasn't Hades. Grover didn't know what to say because he was too blur. I knew he was going to ask me. I sent him a look pleading him not to ask. Please, I thought silently.

"You have an idea what might be in that pit, don't you?" he asked me. "I mean, if it isn't Hades?"

"Percy ... let's not talk about it. Because if it isn't Hades ... No. It has to be Hades."

Wasteland rolled by. We passed a sign that said CALIFORNIA STATE LINE, 12 MILES.

"The answer is in the Underworld," I assured him. "You saw spirits of the dead, Percy. There's only one place that could be. We're doing the right thing." I knew it probably wasn't Hades but I wasn't going to state my idea but I knew the answer was in the underworld because Percy saw the spirits of the dead.

I tried to boost all our morale, including me own, by suggesting clever strategies for getting into the Land of the Dead, but their heart probably wasn't in it. Mine wasn't either. There were just too many unknown factors. It was like cramming for a test without knowing the subject.

The cab sped west. Finally at sunset, the taxi dropped us at the beach in Santa Monica. There were carnival rides lining the Pier, palm trees lining the sidewalks, homeless guys sleeping in the sand dunes, and surfer dudes waiting for the perfect wave. Grover, Percy, and I walked down to the edge of the surf.

"What now?" I asked.

The Pacific was turning gold in the setting sun.

Percy stepped into the surf

"Percy?" I said. "What are you doing?"

He kept walking, up to his waist, then his chest.

I called after him, "You know how polluted that water is? There're all kinds of toxic—" That's when his head went under. I wanted to think it was stupid of him but I knew that it wasn't that was his father's territory after all.

After pacing up and down for hours with Grover keep trying to tell me to go down and check in case Percy drowned or something, Percy surfaced. He told us about pearls and showed it to us, things from the ocean that will always return to the ocean and not to trust the gifts. What gifts, I wondered.

I grimaced. "No gift comes without a price."

"They were free."

"No." I shook my head. "'There is no such thing as a free lunch.' That's an ancient Greek saying that translated pretty well into American. There will be a price. You wait."

With some spare change from Ares's backpack, we took the bus into West Hollywood. I showed the driver the Underworld address slip I'd taken from Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium, but he'd never heard of DOA Recording Studios.

"You remind me of somebody I saw on TV," he told me. "You a child actor or something?"

"Uh ... I'm a stunt double ... for a lot of child actors." Good of him to think of something

"Oh! That explains it."

We thanked him and got off quickly at the next stop.

We wandered for miles on foot, looking for DOA. Nobody seemed to know where it was. It didn't appear in the phone book. Twice, we even had to duck into alleys to avoid cop cars.

Suddenly, Percy froze in front of an appliance-store window because a television was playing an interview with somebody weird guy. He was talking to Barbara Walters—I mean, as if he were some kind of huge celebrity. She was interviewing him in our apartment, in the middle of a poker game, and there was a young blond lady sitting next to him, patting his hand.

A tear glistened on his cheek. He was saying, "Honest, Ms. Walters, if it wasn't for Sugar here, my grief counselor, I'd be a wreck. My stepson took everything I cared about. My wife ... my Camaro ... I—I'm sorry. I have trouble talking about it."

"There you have it, America." Barbara Walters turned to the camera. "A man torn apart. An adolescent boy with serious issues. Let me show you, again, the last known photo of this troubled young fugitive, taken a week ago in Denver."

The screen cut to a grainy shot of me, Percy, and Grover standing outside the Colorado diner, talking to Ares.

"Who are the other children in this photo?" Barbara Walters asked dramatically. "Who is the man with them? Is Percy Jackson a delinquent, a terrorist, or perhaps the brainwashed victim of a frightening new cult? When we come back, we chat with a leading child psychologist. Stay tuned, America."

"C'mon," Grover told Percy. He hauled Percy away before he could punch a hole in the appliance-store window.

It got dark, and hungry-looking characters started coming out on the streets to play. I sighed, knowing there would be criminals, thieves, gangsters and all of the sort.

We walked past gangbangers, bums, and street hawkers, who looked at us like they were trying to figure if we were worth the trouble of mugging. As we hurried passed the entrance of an alley, a voice from the darkness said, "Hey, you."

Like an idiot, Percy stopped.

Before we knew it, we were surrounded. A gang of kids had circled us. Six of them in all—white kids with expensive clothes and mean faces.

Instinctively, Percy uncapped Riptide. When the sword appeared out of nowhere, the kids backed off, but their leader was either really stupid or really brave, because he kept coming at me with a switchblade.

I made the mistake of swinging. The kid yelped. But he must've been one hundred per-cent mortal, because the blade passed harmlessly right through his chest. He looked down. "What the ..."

"Run!" I screamed at Grover and I. Like we need to be told that. We pushed two kids out of the way and raced down the street, not knowing where we were going. We turned a sharp corner.

"There!" Percy shouted.

Only one store on the block looked open, its windows glaring with neon. The sign above the door said something like CRSTUY'S WATRE BDE ALPACE.

"Crusty's Water Bed Palace?" Grover translated.

It didn't sound like a place I'd ever go except in an emergency, but this definitely qualified. We burst through the doors, ran behind a water bed, and ducked. A split second later, the gang kids ran past outside.

"I think we lost them," Grover panted.

A voice behind us boomed, "Lost who?"

We all jumped.

Standing behind us was a guy who looked like a raptor in a leisure suit. He was at least seven feet tall, with absolutely no hair. He had gray, leathery skin, thick-lidded eyes, and a cold, reptilian smile. He moved toward us slowly, but I got the feeling he could move fast if he needed to.

His suit might've come from the Lotus Casino. It belonged back in the seventies, big-time. The shirt was silk paisley, unbuttoned halfway down his hairless chest. The lapels on his velvet jacket were as wide as landing strips. The silver chains around his neck—I couldn't even count them.

"I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile.

I resisted the urge to say, Yes, you are. This guy probably could charm-speak from the sound of it.

"Sorry to barge in," Percy told him. "We were just, um, browsing." Browsing what in the middle of the night, I thought. What a dolt.

"You mean hiding from those no-good kids," he grumbled. "They hang around every night. I get a lot of people in here, thanks to them. Say, you want to look at a water bed?"

I was about to say No, thanks, when he put a huge paw on Percy shoulder and steered him deeper into the showroom. I looked at Grover and we followed. Not that we had a choice. We couldn't leave Percy. There was every kind of water bed you could imagine: different kinds of wood, different patterns of sheets; queen-size, king-size, emperor-of-the-universe-size.

"This is my most popular model." Crusty spread his hands proudly over a bed covered with black satin sheets, with built-in Lava Lamps on the headboard. The mattress vibrated, so it looked like oil-flavored Jell-O.

"Million-hand massage," Crusty told us. "Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No business today, anyway."

"Um," Percy said, "I don't think ..."

"Million-hand massage!" Grover cried, and dove in. "Oh, you guys! This is cool." Seriously Grover, what if he asks us to pay for touching it later. He didn't say anything about not having to pay. Plus, I had a bad feeling about this.

"Hmm," Crusty said, stroking his leathery chin. "Almost, almost."

"Almost what?" Percy asked.

He looked at me. "Do me a favor and try this one over here, honey. Might fit."

I said, "But what—" if I don't want to, I continued in my head.

He patted me reassuringly on the shoulder (but I didn't feel reassured) and led her over to the Safari Deluxe model with teakwood lions carved into the frame and a leopard-patterned comforter. When I didn't want to lie down, Crusty pushed me.

"Hey!" I protested.

Crusty snapped his fingers. "Ergo!"

Ropes sprang from the sides of the bed, lashing around me, holding me to the mattress.

Grover tried to get up, but ropes sprang from his black-satin bed, too, and lashed him down.

"N-not c-c-cool!" he yelled, his voice vibrating from the million-hand massage. "N-not c-cool a-at all!"

The giant looked at me, then turned toward Percy and grinned. "Almost, darn it."

Percy tried to step away, but his hand shot out and clamped around the back of Percy's neck. "Whoa, kid. Don't worry. We'll find you one in a sec."

"Let my friends go."

"Oh, sure I will. But I got to make them fit, first."

"What do you mean?"

"All the beds are exactly six feet, see? Your friends are too short. Got to make them fit."

Grover and I kept struggling. I tried to yell at Percy to run but my efforts were pointless. I couldn't do it.

"Can't stand imperfect measurements," Crusty muttered."Ergo!"

A new set of ropes leaped out from the top and bottom of the beds, wrapping around Grover and my ankles, then around our armpits. The ropes started tightening, pulling my friends from both ends.

"Don't worry," Crusty told Percy, "These are stretching jobs. Maybe three extra inches on their spines. They might even live. Now why don't we find a bed you like, huh?" I might die? Oh gods, I should've known. I would've failed. Chiron said I was too young. He was right. I was just a young girl, capable of doing practices but completely unable to complete quests. Well, I hate being wrong so at least if I die, I don't have to admit to Chiron that he was right.


	12. Chapter 12

"Percy!" Grover managed to yell.

"Your real name's not Crusty, is it?" Percy asked. Who cares, I thought.

"Legally, it's Procrustes," he admitted.

"The Stretcher," Percy said. Well, his Greek Mythology wasn't that bad. Oh gods, I remembered the story: the giant who'd tried to kill Theseus with excess hospitality on his way to Athens. How silly have we been. First we didn't guess Aunty Em's Medusa. Then it has Hephaestus trap. Now Procrustes.

"Yeah," the salesman said. "But who can pronounce Procrustes? Bad for business. Now 'Crusty,' anybody can say that."

"You're right. It's got a good ring to it." What! What's going on?

His eyes lit up. "You think so?"

"Oh, absolutely," Percy said. "And the workmanship on these beds? Fabulous!"

He grinned hugely, but his fingers didn't loosen on my neck. "I tell my customers that. Every time. Nobody bothers to look at the workmanship. How many built-in Lava Lamp headboards have you seen?"

"Not too many."

"That's right!"

"Percy!" I finally managed. "What are you doing?"

"Don't mind her," Percy told Procrustes. "She's impossible." What the heck. I was so going to murder him… if I didn't die. I started feeling afraid again. More than I've ever felt.

The giant laughed. "All my customers are. Never six feet exactly. So inconsiderate. And then they complain about the fitting."

"What do you do if they're longer than six feet?"

"Oh, that happens all the time. It's a simple fix."

He let go of my neck, but before I could react, he reached behind a nearby sales desk and brought out a huge double-bladed brass axe. He said, "I just center the subject as best I can and lop off whatever hangs over on either end."

"Ah," Percy said. "Sensible." Did he genuinely mean it? He sounded like he did.

"I'm so glad to come across an intelligent customer!"

Suddenly, I felt nauseous and started losing colour. I heard Grover made gurgling sounds, like a strangled goose from a corner.

"So, Crusty ..." Percy said glancing at the sales tag on the valentine-shaped Honeymoon Special. "Does this one really have dynamic stabilizers to stop wave motion?"

"Absolutely. Try it out."

"Yeah, maybe I will. But would it work even for a big guy like you? No waves at all?"

"Guaranteed."

"No way."

"Way."

"Show me."

He sat down eagerly on the bed, patted the mattress. "No waves. See?"

Percy snapped my fingers. "Ergo." Ropes lashed around Crusty and flattened him against the mattress. I had to admit Percy was pretty smart.

"Hey!" he yelled.

"Center him just right," Percy said. I would have laughed if I wasn't feeling so sick.

The ropes readjusted themselves at my command. Crusty's whole head stuck out the top. His feet stuck out the bottom.

"No!" he said. "Wait! This is just a demo."

I uncapped Riptide. "A few simple adjustments ..." This would be interesting, I thought.

"You drive a hard bargain," he told me. "I'll give you thirty percent off on selected floor models.'"

"I think I'll start with the top." Percy raised his sword.

"No money down! No interest for six months!"

Percy swung the sword and Crusty stopped making offers.

Percy cut the ropes on the Grover and my beds. Grover and I got to our feet, groaning and wincing and cursing Percy for not being faster a lot. And almost turning his back on us. And calling me impossible.

"You look taller," Percy said.

"Very funny," I said. "Be faster next time." Though I rather not be tied up and stretched again. He looked at the bulletin board behind Crusty's sales desk. There was an advertisement for Hermes Delivery Service, and another for the All-New Compendium of L.A. Area Monsters—"The only Monstrous Yellow Pages you'll ever need!" Under that, a bright orange flier for DOA Recording Studios, offering commissions for heroes' souls. "We are always looking for new talent!" DOA's address was right underneath with a map.

"Come on," he told us friends.

"Give us a minute," Grover complained saying what I wanted to. "We were almost stretched to death.'"

"Then you're ready for the Underworld," Percy said. "It's only a block from here."

We stood in the shadows of Valencia Boulevard, looking up at gold letters etched in black marble: DOA RECORDING STUDIOS.

Underneath, stenciled on the glass doors: NO SOLICITORS. NO LOITERING. NO LIVING. It was almost midnight, but the lobby was brightly lit and full of people. Behind the security desk sat a tough-looking guard with sunglasses and an earpiece.

Percy turned to Grover and I. "Okay. You remember the plan."

"The plan," Grover gulped. "Yeah. I love the plan." Like real, I thought.

I said, "What happens if the plan doesn't work?"

"Don't think negative."

"Right," I said. "We're entering the Land of the Dead, and I shouldn't think negative."

Percy took the pearls out of my pocket, the three milky spheres the Nereid had given me in Santa Monica. Oh no, he'd probably start thinking it was his fault or something that our plan might not work and we didn't have backup so I put my hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Percy. You're right, we'll make it. It'll be fine."

I nudged Grover hard.

"Oh, right!" he chimed in. "We got this far. We'll find the master bolt and save your mom. No problem."

Percy looked at us with a grateful look in his eyes. I felt something stirring in me and I realized how nice it was to be thanked and trusted. All this years I've been trying to be strong and not soften down or let anyone, except maybe Luke and Grover, into me but Percy didn't. He thanked us, even if he did it with his eyes

Percy slipped the pearls back in his pocket. "Let's whip some Underworld butt."

We walked inside the DOA lobby. Muzak played softly on hidden speakers. The carpet and walls were steel gray. Pencil cactuses grew in the corners like skeleton hands. The furniture was black leather, and every seat was taken. There were people sitting on couches, people standing up, people staring out the windows or waiting for the elevator. Nobody moved, or talked, or did much of anything. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see them all just fine, but if I focused on any one of them in particular, they started looking ... transparent. I could see right through their bodies.

The security guard's desk was a raised podium, so we had to look up at him. He was tall and elegant, with chocolate-colored skin and bleached-blond hair shaved military style. He wore tortoiseshell shades and a silk Italian suit that matched his hair. A black rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag.

Percy read the name tag, then looked at him in bewilderment. "Your name is Chiron?" I sighed, this is going to be so hard. We're in the underworld thus the man had to be Charon, not Chiron.

He leaned across the desk. "What a precious young lad." He had a strange accent—British, maybe, but also as if he had learned English as a second language. "Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur?"

"N-no."

"Sir," he added smoothly.

"Sir," Percy said.

He pinched the name tag and ran his finger under the letters. "Can you read this, mate? It says C-H-AR-O-N. Say it with me: CARE-ON."

"Charon."

"Amazing! Now: Mr. Charon."

"Mr. Charon," Percy said. Great, now he's repeating like an idiot. What's wrong with him.

"Well done." He sat back. "I hate being confused with that old horse-man. And now, how may I help you little dead ones?"

Percy looked at me for support. I could tell that he didn't like the "little dead ones". I didn't either but still, we need to be strong and get through this, together. This time, it was Grover, Percy and me. Not Luke, Thalia and me.

"We want to go the Underworld," I said.

Charon's mouth twitched. "Well, that's refreshing."

"It is?" I asked.

"Straightforward and honest. No screaming. No 'There must be a mistake, Mr. Charon.'" He looked us over. "How did you die, then?"

Percy nudged Grover behind me.

"Oh," he said. "Um ... drowned ... in the bathtub."

"All three of you?" Charon asked. We nodded although it was an obvious lie. He should've said the sea or the pool. How big could a bathtub be? But Charon didn't seem to care anyway.

"Big bathtub." Charon looked mildly impressed." I don't suppose you have coins for passage. Normally, with adults, you see, I could charge your American Express, or add the ferry price to your last cable bill. But with children ... alas, you never die prepared. Suppose you'll have to take a seat for a few centuries."

"Oh, but we have coins." Percy set three golden drachmas on the counter, part of the stash he'd found in Crusty's office desk.

"Well, now ..." Charon moistened his lips. "Real drach-mas. Real golden drachmas. I haven't seen these in ..."

His fingers hovered greedily over the coins. We were so close. Then Charon looked at me. That cold stare behind his glasses seemed to bore a hole through my chest.

"Here now," he said. "You couldn't read my name correctly. Are you dyslexic, lad?"

"No," Percy said. "I'm dead."

Charon leaned forward and took a sniff. "You're not dead. I should've known. You're a godling."

"We have to get to the Underworld," Percy insisted. I had to admit he was pretty brave. Charon made a growling sound deep in his throat.

Immediately, all the people in the waiting room got up and started pacing, agitated, lighting cigarettes, running hands through their hair, or checking their wristwatches.

"Leave while you can," Charon told us. "I'll just take these and forget I saw you."

He started to go for the coins, but Percy snatched them back. Really really brave. I don't think I would dare to have snatched back the coins. I wouldn't dare offend Charon.

"No service, no tip"

Charon growled again—a deep, blood-chilling sound. The spirits of the dead started pounding on the elevator doors.

"It's a shame, too," Percy fake sighed. "We had more to offer." Like he cared.

He held up the entire bag from Crusty's stash. I took out a fistful of drachmas and let the coins spill through my fingers.

Charon's growl changed into something more like a lion's purr. "Do you think I can be bought, godling? Eh ... just out of curiosity, how much have you got there?"

"A lot," I said. "I bet Hades doesn't pay you well enough for such hard work."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it. How would you like to babysit these spirits all day? Always 'Please don't let me be dead' or 'Please let me across for free.' I haven't had a pay raise in three thousand years. Do you imagine suits like this come cheap?"

"You deserve better," Percy agreed. "A little appreciation. Respect. Good pay."

With each word, he stacked another gold coin on the counter.

Charon glanced down at his silk Italian jacket, as if imagining himself in something even better. "I must say, lad, you're making some sense now. Just a little."

Percy stacked another few coins. "I could mention a pay raise while I'm talking to Hades."

He sighed. "The boat's almost full, anyway. I might as well add you three and be off."

He stood, scooped up our money, and said, "Come along."


	13. Chapter 13

_I don't own anything. Read, enjoy and REVIEW (hopefully if you have time)._

We pushed through the crowd of waiting spirits, who started grabbing at our clothes like the wind, their voices whispering things I couldn't make out. Charon shoved them out of the way, grumbling, "Freeloaders."

He escorted us into the elevator, which was already crowded with souls of the dead, each one holding a green boarding pass. Charon grabbed two spirits who were trying to get on with us and pushed them back into the lobby.

"Right. Now, no one get any ideas while I'm gone," he announced to the waiting room. "And if anyone moves the dial off my easy-listening station again, I'll make sure you're here for another thousand years. Understand?"

He shut the doors. He put a key card into a slot in the elevator panel and we started to descend.

"What happens to the spirits waiting in the lobby?" I asked.

"Nothing," Charon said.

"For how long?"

"Forever, or until I'm feeling generous."

"Oh," I said. "That's ... fair."

Charon raised an eyebrow. "Whoever said death was fair, young miss? Wait until it's your turn. You'll die soon enough, where you're going."

"We'll get out alive," Percy said almost like he mean, wait no hoped, it was true.

"Ha."

I got a sudden dizzy feeling. We weren't going down anymore, but forward. The air turned misty. Spirits around me started changing shape. Their modern clothes flickered, turning into gray hooded robes. The floor of the elevator began swaying.

I blinked hard. When I opened my eyes, Charon's creamy Italian suit had been replaced by a long black robe. His tortoiseshell glasses were gone. Where his eyes should've been were empty sockets—like Ares's eyes, except Charon's were totally dark, full of night and death and despair.

He saw me looking, and said, "Well?"

"Nothing," Percy managed.

I thought he was grinning, but that wasn't it. The flesh of his face was becoming transparent, letting me see straight through to his skull. The floor kept swaying.

Grover said, "I think I'm getting seasick."

When I blinked again, the elevator wasn't an elevator anymore. We were standing in a wooden barge. Charon was poling us across a dark, oily river, swirling with bones, dead fish, and other, stranger things—plastic dolls, crushed car-nations, soggy diplomas with gilt edges.

"The River Styx," I murmured. "It's so ..."

"Polluted," Charon said. "For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across—hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me."

Mist curled off the filthy water. Above us, almost lost in the gloom, was a ceiling of stalactites. Ahead, the far shore glimmered with greenish light, the color of poison.

Panic closed up my throat. What was I doing here? These people around me ... they were dead. I should never have volunteered. I could always go on some other easier quest when I was older. I didn't need to care about Percy. Maybe some other annoying campers like some Hermes' son always trying to trick me. Then I realized how wrong it was to think like that. Hermes son were not evil and never tried to hurt me or wish I was dead. Percy's now my friend, or at least he treat me as a friend while I am still being mean. I promised I would try not to hate him that much even if he was the son of Poseidon.

I grabbed hold of his hand. I knew that Percy, even if I just knew him for barely a few months, would protect both Grover and I even if it took his life. He was always trying to help others anyway. That's why he cared about his mother so much. He could take the Great Prophecy because no matter what, he doesn't want to make others die instead of him. He would want to save his friends and never turn them down. He's the most reliable friend I could ever have.

The shoreline of the Underworld came into view. Craggy rocks and black volcanic sand stretched inland about a hundred yards to the base of a high stone wall, which marched off in either direction as far as we could see. A sound came from somewhere nearby in the green gloom, echoing off the stones—the howl of a large animal.

"Old Three-Face is hungry," Charon said. His smile turned skeletal in the greenish light. "Bad luck for you, godlings."

The bottom of our boat slid onto the black sand. The dead began to disembark. A woman holding a little girl's hand. An old man and an old woman hobbling along arm in arm. A boy no older than I was, shuffling silently along in his gray robe.

Charon said, "I'd wish you luck, mate, but there isn't any down here. Mind you, don't forget to mention my pay raise." He counted our golden coins into his pouch, then took up his pole. He warbled something that sounded like a Barry Manilow song as he ferried the empty barge back across the river.

We followed the spirits up a well-worn path. I'm not sure what I was expecting—Pearly Gates, or a big black portcullis, or something. But the entrance to the Underworld looked like a cross between airport security and the Jersey Turnpike.

There were three separate entrances under one huge black archway that said YOU ARE NOW ENTERING EREBUS. Each entrance had a pass-through metal detector with security cameras mounted on top. Beyond this were tollbooths manned by black-robed ghouls like Charon.

The howling of the hungry animal was really loud now, but I couldn't see where it was coming from. The three-headed dog, Cerberus, who was supposed to guard Hades's door, was nowhere to be seen.

The dead queued up in the three lines, two marked ATTENDANT ON DUTY, and one marked EZ DEATH. The EZ DEATH line was moving right along. The other two were crawling.

"What do you figure?" Percy asked me.

"The fast line must go straight to the Asphodel Fields," I said. "No contest. They don't want to risk judgment from the court, because it might go against them."

"There's a court for dead people?"

"Yeah. Three judges. They switch around who sits on the bench. King Minos, Thomas Jefferson, Shakespeare—people like that. Sometimes they look at a life and decide that person needs a special reward—the Fields of Elysium. Sometimes they decide on punishment. But most people, well, they just lived. Nothing special, good or bad. So they go to the Asphodel Fields."

"And do what?"

Grover said, "Imagine standing in a wheat field in Kansas. Forever."

"Harsh," Percy said.

"Not as harsh as that," Grover muttered. "Look."

A couple of black-robbed ghouls had pulled aside one spirit and were frisking him at the security desk. The face of the dead man looked vaguely familiar.

"He's that preacher who made the news, remember?" Grover asked.

"Oh, yeah." He said as though he remembered something.

Percy said, "What're they doing to him?"

"Special punishment from Hades," Grover guessed. "The really bad people get his personal attention as soon as they arrive. The Fur—the Kindly Ones will set up an eternal torture for him."

"But if he's a preacher," Percy said, "and he believes in a different hell..."

Grover shrugged. "Who says he's seeing this place the way we're seeing it? Humans see what they want to see. You're very stubborn—er, persistent, that way."

We got closer to the gates. The howling was so loud now it shook the ground at my feet, but I still couldn't figure out where it was coming from.

Then, about fifty feet in front of us, the green mist shimmered. Standing just where the path split into three lanes was an enormous shadowy monster. I hadn't seen it before because it was half transparent, like the dead. Until it moved, it blended with whatever was behind it. Only its eyes and teeth looked solid. And it was staring straight at us.

My jaw hung open. All I could think to say was, "He's a Rottweiler."

I'd always imagined Cerberus as a big black mastiff. But he was obviously a purebred Rottweiler, except of course that he was twice the size of a woolly mammoth, mostly invisible, and had three heads.

The dead walked right up to him—no fear at all. The ATTENDANT ON DUTY lines parted on either side of him. The EZ DEATH spirits walked right between his front paws and under his belly, which they could do without even crouching.

"I'm starting to see him better," Percy muttered. "Why is that?"

"I think ..." I moistened my lips, really worried. "I'm afraid it's because we're getting closer to being dead."

The dog's middle head craned toward us. It sniffed the air and growled.

"It can smell the living," Percy said.

"But that's okay," Grover said, trembling next to me. "Because we have a plan."

"Right," I said, my voice very small. "A plan."

We moved toward the monster. The middle head snarled at us, then barked so loud my eyeballs rattled.

"Can you understand it?" I asked Grover.

"Oh yeah," he said. "I can understand it."

"What's it saying?"

"I don't think humans have a four-letter word that translates, exactly."

Percy took the big stick out of my backpack—a bedpost he'd broken off Crusty's Safari Deluxe floor model. He held it up, and tried to look as though he was glad he could play with Cerberus.

"Hey, Big Fella," He called up. "I bet they don't play with you much."

"GROWWWLLLL!"

"Good boy," he said weakly.

He waved the stick. The dog's middle head followed the movement. The other two heads trained their eyes on me, completely ignoring the spirits. I had Cerberus's undivided attention. I wasn't sure that was a good thing.

"Fetch!" He threw the stick into the gloom, a good solid throw. I heard it splash into the River Styx. Cerberus glared at me, unimpressed. His eyes were baleful and cold. So much for the plan.

Cerberus was now making a new kind of growl, deeper down in his three throats.

"Um," Grover said. "Percy?"

"Yeah?"

"I just thought you'd want to know."

"Yeah?"

"Cerberus? He's saying we've got ten seconds to pray to the god of our choice. After that... well ... he's hungry."

"Wait!" I said. I started rifling through my pack. I've got to do something and it's got to work. I wasn't going to give up. We've came so far and now we weren't going to get killed by a dog.

Uh-oh, I thought.

"Five seconds," Grover said. "Do we run now?"

I produced a red rubber ball the size of a grapefruit. It was labeled WATERLAND, DENVER, CO. Before anyone could stop me, I raised the ball and marched straight up to Cerberus. Thalia sacrificed herself for me before. I would have o learn to help too, even if it meant dying. Well, when I have Cerberus attention, they can go on and enter.

I shouted, "See the ball? You want the ball, Cerberus? Sit!"

Cerberus looked as stunned as my friends looked. I stifled a laugh at their expression. All three of his heads cocked sideways. Six nostrils dilated.

"Sit!" I called again.

I was sure that any moment I would become the world's largest Milkbone dog biscuit. I wasn't confident but I acted confidence. I've been to obedience school before so I knew I had to be firm.

But instead, Cerberus licked his three sets of lips, shifted on his haunches, and sat, immediately crushing a dozen spirits who'd been passing underneath him in the EZ DEATH line. The spirits made muffled hisses as they dissipated, like the air let out of tires.

I said, "Good boy!"

I threw Cerberus the ball.

He caught it in his middle mouth. It was barely big enough for him to chew, and the other heads started snapping at the middle, trying to get the new toy.

"Drop it.'" I ordered.

Cerberus's heads stopped fighting and looked at me. The ball was wedged between two of his teeth like a tiny piece of gum. He made a loud, scary whimper, then dropped the ball, now slimy and bitten nearly in half, at my feet.

"Good boy." I picked up the ball, ignoring the monster spit all over it.

I turned toward them. "Go now. EZ DEATH line—it's faster."

Percy said, "But—"

"Now.'" I ordered, in the same tone I was using on the dog. Grover and Percy inched forward warily and I wondered if they were dogs too. Cerberus started to growl.

"Stay!" I ordered the monster. "If you want the ball, stay!" Cerberus whimpered, but he stayed where he was.

"What about you?" Percy asked me as they passed me. Part of me was really glad he was concerned and wanted to hug him but instead, I muttered, "I know what I'm doing, Percy, at least, I'm pretty sure..."

Grover and Percy walked between the monster's legs. We made it through. Cerberus wasn't any less scary-looking from the back. I said, "Good dog!"

She held up the tattered red ball, and came to a bad conclusion—if I rewarded Cerberus, there'd be nothing left for another trick. But if I don't, he'll still eat me up so I might as well make one person/dog happy.

I threw the ball. The monster's left mouth immediately snatched it up, only to be attacked by the middle head, while the right head moaned in protest.

While the monster was distracted, I walked briskly under its belly and joined us at the metal detector.

"How did you do that?" Percy asked me, amazed.

"Obedience school," she said breathlessly, and I was starting to feel teary for my family's dog. I remembered how we used to play.

"When I was little, at my dad's house, we had a Doberman... ."

"Never mind that," Grover said, tugging at Percy's shirt. "Come on!"

"We were about to bolt through the EZ DEATH line when Cerberus moaned pitifully from all three mouths. I stopped.

She turned to face the dog, which had done a one-eighty to look at us.

Cerberus panted expectantly, the tiny red ball in pieces in a puddle of drool at its feet.

"Good boy," I said, but this time, I couldn't bring the confidence out of me. The monster's heads turned sideways, as if worried about me.

"I'll bring you another ball soon," I promised faintly. "Would you like that?"

The monster whimpered. I could tell he was interested in the ball. Very interested.

"Good dog. I'll come visit you soon. I—I promise." I turned to them. "Let's go."

Grover and Percy pushed through the metal detector, which immediately screamed and set off flashing red lights. "Unauthorized possessions! Magic detected!" Cerberus started to bark.

We burst through the EZ DEATH gate, which started even more alarms blaring, and raced into the Underworld.

A few minutes later, we were hiding, out of breath, in the rotten trunk of an immense black tree as security ghouls scuttled past, yelling for backup from the Furies.

Grover murmured, "Well, Percy, what have we learned today?"

"That three-headed dogs prefer red rubber balls over sticks?"

"No," Grover told me. "We've learned that your plans really, really bite!" Percy didn't seem to agree

I wiped a tear away as I heard Cerberus mournful moaning. I expect near deaths and terror, not dogs who likes me.


	14. Chapter 14

Imagine the largest concert crowd you've ever seen, a foot-ball field packed with a million fans. Now imagine a field a million times that big, packed with people, and imagine the electricity has gone out, and there is no noise, no light, no beach ball bouncing around over the crowd. Something tragic has happened backstage. Whispering masses of people are just milling around in the shadows, waiting for a concert that will never start.

If you can picture that, you have a pretty good idea what the Fields of Asphodel looked like. The black grass had been trampled by eons of dead feet. A warm, moist wind blew like the breath of a swamp. Black trees—Grover told me they were poplars—grew in clumps here and there.

The cavern ceiling was so high above us it might've been a bank of storm clouds, except for the stalactites, which glowed faint gray and looked wickedly pointed. I tried not to imagine they'd fall on us at any moment, but dotted around the fields were several that had fallen and impaled themselves in the black grass. I guess the dead didn't have to worry about little hazards like being speared by stalactites the size of booster rockets.

Percy, Grover, and I tried to blend into the crowd, keeping an eye out for security ghouls. I couldn't help looking for familiar faces among the spirits of Asphodel, but the dead are hard to look at. Their faces shimmer. They all look slightly angry or confused. They will come up to you and speak, but their voices sound like chatter, like bats twittering. Once they realize you can't understand them, they frown and move away.

The dead aren't scary. They're just sad. Very, I was really glad Zeus turn her into a tree rather than send her here even though she was probably going to Elysium, you'll never know. After all, Hades was angry with Zeus for giving birth to Thalia.

We crept along, following the line of new arrivals that snaked from the main gates toward a black-tented pavilion with a banner that read:

JUDGMENTS FOR ELYSIUM AND ETERNAL DAMNATION. Welcome, Newly Deceased!

Out the back of the tent came two much smaller lines.

To the left, spirits flanked by security ghouls were marched down a rocky path toward the Fields of Punishment, which glowed and smoked in the distance, a vast, cracked wasteland with rivers of lava and minefields and miles of barbed wire separating the different torture areas. Even from far away, I could see people being chased by hellhounds, burned at the stake, forced to run naked through cactus patches or listen to opera music. I could just make out a tiny hill, with the ant-size figure of Sisyphus struggling to move his boulder to the top. And I saw worse tortures, too—things I don't want to describe.

The line coming from the right side of the judgment pavilion was much better. This one led down toward a small valley surrounded by walls—a gated community, which seemed to be the only happy part of the Underworld. Beyond the security gate were neighborhoods of beautiful houses from every time period in history, Roman villas and medieval castles and Victorian mansions. Silver and gold flowers bloomed on the lawns. The grass rippled in rainbow colors. I could hear laughter and smell barbecue cooking.

Elysium.

"That's what it's all about," I said, guessing what Percy was thinking. "That's the place for heroes."

But I thought of how few people there were in Elysium, how tiny it was compared to the Fields of Asphodel or even the Fields of Punishment. So few people did good in their lives. It was depressing.

We left the judgment pavilion and moved deeper into the Asphodel Fields. It got darker. The colors faded from our clothes. The crowds of chattering spirits began to thin. After a few miles of walking, we began to hear a familiar screech in the distance. Looming on the horizon was a palace of glittering black obsidian. Above the parapets swirled three dark bat-like creatures: the Furies. I got the feeling they were waiting for us.

"I suppose it's too late to turn back," Grover said wistfully.

"We'll be okay." Percy tried to sound confident.

"Maybe we should search some of the other places first," Grover suggested. "Like, Elysium, for instance ..."

"Come on, goat boy." I grabbed his arm.

Grover yelped. His sneakers sprouted wings and his legs shot forward, pulling him away from I. He landed flat on his back in the grass.

"Grover," I chided. "Stop messing around."

"But I didn't—"

He yelped again. His shoes were flapping like crazy now. They levitated off the ground and started dragging him away from us.

"Maia!" he yelled, but the magic word seemed to have no effect. "Maia, already! Nine-one-one! Help!"

Percy finally got over being stunned and made a grab for Grover's hand, but too late. He was picking up speed, skidding downhill like a bobsled.

We ran after him.

I shouted, "Untie the shoes!" Problem: Grover was moving too fast to be able to reach the shoes.

We kept after him, trying to keep him in sight as he ripped between the legs of spirits who chattered at him in annoyance.

I hoped Grover was going to barrel straight through the gates of Hades's palace, but his shoes veered sharply to the right and dragged him in the opposite direction. Exactly what I feared. Yes we were going to the worst part of the Underworld, Tartarus.

The slope got steeper. Grover picked up speed. Percy and I had to sprint to keep up. The cavern walls narrowed on either side, and yes, even nearer to tartarus. I wanted to tell Percy what I suspected and scream in fear but I knew I had to hold myself together for Grover's sake.

"Grover!" Percy yelled, his voice echoing. "Hold on to something!"

"What?" Grover yelled back.

He was grabbing at gravel, but there was nothing big enough to slow him down. The tunnel got darker and colder. The hairs on my arms bristled. It smelled evil down here. It made me think of things I shouldn't even know about—blood spilled on an ancient stone altar, the foul breath of a murderer.

Then I saw what was ahead of us, and I stopped dead in my tracks. The tunnel widened into a huge dark cavern, and in the middle was a chasm the size of a city block.

Tartarus. We've arrived.

Grover was sliding straight toward the edge.

"Come on, Percy!" I yelled, tugging at Percy wrist.

"But that's—"

"I know!" I shouted. "The place you described in your dream! But Grover's going to fall if we don't catch him." Luckily, that got Percy started and he ran after me.

He was yelling, clawing at the ground, but the winged shoes kept dragging him toward the pit, and it didn't look like we could possibly get to him in time. What saved him were his hooves.

The flying sneakers had always been a loose fit on him, and finally Grover hit a big rock and the left shoe came flying off. It sped into the darkness, down into the chasm. The right shoe kept tugging him along, but not as fast. Grover was able to slow himself down by grabbing on to the big rock and using it like an anchor.

He was ten feet from the edge of the pit when we caught him and hauled him back up the slope. The other winged shoe tugged itself off, circled around us angrily and kicked our heads in protest before flying off into the chasm to join its twin.

We all collapsed, exhausted, on the obsidian gravel. My limbs felt like lead. This was like the most tired I've ever gotten. I mean, like I said before, I have been in the wild with Thalia and Luke but I was seven and pampered. They always carried me when I was tired.

Grover was scratched up pretty bad. His hands were bleeding. His eyes had gone slit-pupiled, goat style, the way they did whenever he was terrified.

"I don't know how ..." he panted. "I didn't..."

"Wait," Percy said. "Listen."

I heard something—a deep whisper in the darkness. I didn't want to think about it.

Another few seconds, and I said, "Percy, this place—"

"Shh." He stood.

The sound was getting louder, a muttering, evil voice from far, far below us. Coming from the pit. Kronos.

Grover sat up. "Wh—what's that noise?"

"Tartarus. The entrance to Tartarus." Percy uncapped Anaklusmos. The bronze sword expanded, gleaming in the darkness, and the evil voice seemed to falter, just for a moment, before resuming its chant. I could almost make out words now, ancient, ancient words, older even than Greek. As if ...

"Magic," Percy said. I was shocked Percy could even guess. I guess he wasn't as dumb as I thought he was.

"We have to get out of here," I said.

Together, we dragged Grover to his hooves and started back up the tunnel. Our legs wouldn't move fast enough. The voice got louder and angrier behind us, and we got afraid and broke into a run. Not a moment too soon.

A cold blast of wind pulled at our backs, as if the entire pit were inhaling. For a terrifying moment, Percy lost ground, his feet slipping in the gravel. If we'd been any closer to the edge, we would've been sucked in.

We kept struggling forward, and finally reached the top of the tunnel, where the cavern widened out into the Fields of Asphodel. The wind died. A wail of outrage echoed from deep in the tunnel. Something was not happy we'd gotten away.

"What was that?" Grover panted, when we'd collapsed in the relative safety of a black poplar grove.

"One of Hades's pets?"

Percy and I looked at each other. I could tell Percy guessed that I was hiding something and I wasn't telling him. I didn't want to scare him or Grover. And there is still a slight possibility, no matter how slim it was, that it wasn't Kronos.

"Let's keep going." Percy looked at Grover. "Can you walk?"

He swallowed. "Yeah, sure. I never liked those shoes, anyway."

He tried to sound brave about it, but he was trembling as badly as Percy and I were. Whatever was in that pit was nobody's pet. It was unspeakably old and powerful.

The Furies circled the parapets, high in the gloom. The outer walls of the fortress glittered black, and the two-story-tall bronze gates stood wide open.

Up close, I saw that the engravings on the gates were scenes of death. Some were from modern times—an atomic bomb exploding over a city, a trench filled with gas mask-wearing soldiers, a line of African famine victims waiting with empty bowls—but all of them looked as if they'd been etched into the bronze thousands of years ago. I wondered if I was looking at prophecies that had come true.

Inside the courtyard was the strangest garden I'd ever seen. Multicolored mushrooms, poisonous shrubs, and weird luminous plants grew without sunlight. Precious jewels made up for the lack of flowers, piles of rubies as big as my fist, clumps of raw diamonds. Standing here and there like frozen party guests were Medusa's garden statues— petrified children, satyrs, and centaurs—all smiling grotesquely.

In the center of the garden was an orchard of pomegranate trees, their orange blooms neon bright in the dark. The tart smell of those pomegranates was almost overwhelming. I had a sudden desire to eat them, but then I remembered the story of Persephone. One bite of Underworld food, and we would never be able to leave. "The garden of Persephone," I said. "Keep walking." I pulled Grover away to keep him from picking a big juicy one.

We walked up the steps of the palace, between black columns, through a black marble portico, and into the house of Hades. The entry hall had a polished bronze floor, which seemed to boil in the reflected torchlight. There was no ceiling, just the cavern roof, far above. I guess they never had to worry about rain down here.

Every side doorway was guarded by a skeleton in military gear. Some wore Greek armor, some British redcoat uniforms, some camouflage with tattered American flags on the shoulders. They carried spears or muskets or M-16s. None of them bothered us, but their hollow eye sockets followed us as we walked down the hall, toward the big set of doors at the opposite end.

Two U.S. Marine skeletons guarded the doors. They grinned down at us, rocket-propelled grenade launchers held across their chests.

"You know," Grover mumbled, "I bet Hades doesn't have trouble with door-to-door salesmen."

"Well, guys," Percy said. "I suppose we should ... knock?"

A hot wind blew down the corridor, and the doors swung open. The guards stepped aside.

"I guess that means enter now," Annabeth said.


	15. Chapter 15

_Read review enjoy i-do-not-own-PJO_

The room inside looked just like in my dream, except this time the throne of Hades was occupied. Hades really struck me as really high and mighty and powerful.

He was at least ten feet tall, for one thing, and dressed in black silk robes and a crown of braided gold. His skin was albino white, his hair shoulder-length and jet black. He wasn't bulked up like Ares, but he radiated power. He lounged on his throne of fused human bones, looking lithe, graceful, and dangerous as a panther.

The Lord of the Dead resembled pictures I'd seen of Adolph Hitler, or Napoleon, or the terrorist leaders who direct suicide bombers. Hades had the same intense eyes, the same kind of mesmerizing, evil charisma.

"You are brave to come here, Son of Poseidon," he said in an oily voice. "After what you have done to me, very brave indeed. Or perhaps you are simply very foolish."

Percy looked like he wanted to obey Hades for a while but after what seemed like forever, he stepped forward. He said, "Lord and Uncle, I come with two requests."

Hades raised an eyebrow. When he sat forward in his throne, shadowy faces appeared in the folds of his black robes, faces of torment, as if the garment were stitched of trapped souls from the Fields of Punishment, trying to get out. Gross, was all I could think.

"Only two requests?" Hades said. "Arrogant child. As if you have not already taken enough. Speak, then. It amuses me not to strike you dead yet."

I heard Percy swallow. This was not going well at all. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Percy glancing at Queen Persephone throne with wishful eyes. I guessed Percy wished she was here but it was impossible. It is summer now.

Gosh, Percy need to hurry before we got killed. I cleared my throat and prodded his back.

"Lord Hades," I said. "Look, sir, there can't be a war among the gods. It would be ... bad."

"Really bad," Grover added helpfully, which wasn't really helpful but at least he was trying.

"Return Zeus's master bolt to me," Percy said. "Please, sir. Let me carry it to Olympus."

Hades's eyes grew dangerously bright. "You dare keep up this pretense, after what you have done?" Percy glanced back at Grover and me. I tried to look confuse and Percy seemed to think I was confused. My guess which I've been wishing wasn't true was true.

"Um ... Uncle," Percy said. "You keep saying 'after what you've done.' What exactly have I done?"

The throne room shook with a tremor so strong, they probably felt it upstairs in Los Angeles. Debris fell from the cavern ceiling. Doors burst open all along the walls, and skeletal warriors marched in, hundreds of them, from every time period and nation in Western civilization. They lined the perimeter of the room, blocking the exits.

Hades bellowed, "Do you think I want war, godling?"

"You are the Lord of the Dead," Percy said carefully. "A war would expand your kingdom, right?" Oops, wrong thing to say? I thought.

"A typical thing for my brothers to say! Do you think I need more subjects? Did you not see the sprawl of the Asphodel Fields?"

"Well..."

"Have you any idea how much my kingdom has swollen in this past century alone, how many subdivisions I've had to open?"

Percy opened his mouth to respond, but Hades was on a roll now. He wasn't going to let Percy explain or apologise.

"More security ghouls," he moaned. "Traffic problems at the judgment pavilion. Double overtime for the staff. I used to be a rich god, Percy Jackson. I control all the precious metals under the earth. But my expenses!"

"Charon wants a pay raise," Percy blurted out. As soon as he said it, I wished I could sew up my mouth.

"Don't get me started on Charon!" Hades yelled. "He's been impossible ever since he discovered Italian suits! Problems everywhere, and I've got to handle all of them personally. The commute time alone from the palace to the gates is enough to drive me insane! And the dead just keep arriving. No, godling. I need no help getting subjects! I did not ask for this war."

"But you took Zeus's master bolt." Idiot.

"Lies!" More rumbling. Hades rose from his throne, towering to the height of a football goalpost. "Your father may fool Zeus, boy, but I am not so stupid. I see his plan."

"His plan?"

"You were the thief on the winter solstice," he said. "Your father thought to keep you his little secret. He directed you into the throne room on Olympus, You took the master bolt and my helm. Had I not sent my Fury to discover you at Yancy Academy, Poseidon might have succeeded in hiding his scheme to start a war. But now you have been forced into the open. You will be exposed as Poseidon's thief, and I will have my helm back!"

"But ..." I spoke. "Lord Hades, your helm of darkness is missing, too?" I could almost guess it already but I wasn't going to say it out loud. Hades would never believe. This had to be Kronos plan but where Ares came in…

"Do not play innocent with me, girl. You and the satyr have been helping this hero—coming here to threaten me in Poseidon's name, no doubt—to bring me an ultimatum. Does Poseidon think I can be blackmailed into supporting him?"

"No!" Percy said. "Poseidon didn't—I didn't—"

"I have said nothing of the helm's disappearance," Hades snarled, "because I had no illusions that anyone on Olympus would offer me the slightest justice, the slightest help. I can ill afford for word to get out that my most powerful weapon of fear is missing. So I searched for you myself, and when it was clear you were coming to me to deliver your threat, I did not try to stop you."

"You didn't try to stop us? But—"

"Return my helm now, or I will stop death," Hades threatened. "That is my counterproposal. I will open the earth and have the dead pour back into the world. I will make your lands a nightmare. And you, Percy Jackson—your skeleton will lead my army out of Hades."

The skeletal soldiers all took one step forward, making their weapons ready. I started feeling shaky again but I stood still. After all, I am still unharmed. Unlike Thalia when she…

"You're as bad as Zeus," Percy said. "You think I stole from you? That's why you sent the Furies after me?" I sighed inwardly and tried to will Percy to shut up.

"Of course," Hades said.

"And the other monsters?" Kronos, I thought once again.

Hades curled his lip. "I had nothing to do with them. I wanted no quick death for you—I wanted you brought before me alive so you might face every torture in the Fields of Punishment. Why do you think I let you enter my kingdom so easily?"

"Easily?"

"Return my property!"

"But I don't have your helm. I came for the master bolt."

"Which you already possess!" Hades shouted. "You came here with it, little fool, thinking you could you threaten me!"

"But I didn't!"

"Open your pack, then."

A horrible feeling struck me. The weight in my back-pack, like a bowling ball. It couldn't be... I slung it off my shoulder and unzipped it. Inside was a two-foot-long metal cylinder, spiked on both ends, humming with energy.

"Percy," I said. "How—" But as I asked, I understood. Ares was helping Kronos. But who was the demigod who stole it?

"I—I don't know. I don't understand."

"You heroes are always the same," Hades said. "Your pride makes you foolish, thinking you could bring such a weapon before me. I did not ask for Zeus's master bolt, but since it is here, you will yield it to me. I am sure it will make an excellent bargaining tool. And now... my helm. Where is it?"

"Lord Hades, wait," Percy said. "This is all a mistake." Yes! Percy got it.

"A mistake?" Hades roared.

The skeletons aimed their weapons. From high above, there was a fluttering of leathery wings, and the three Furies swooped down to perch on the back of their master's throne. The one with Mrs. Dodds's face grinned at me eagerly and flicked her whip.

"There is no mistake," Hades said. "I know why you have come—I know the real reason you brought the bolt. You came to bargain for her."

Hades loosed a ball of gold fire from his palm. It exploded on the steps in front of me, and there was a pretty lady, frozen in a shower of gold, with the Minotaur squeezing her to death. This was Percy's mother?

Percy seemed stuck with words. He reached out to touch her, but the light must've been hot.

"Yes," Hades said with satisfaction. "I took her. I knew, Percy Jackson, that you would come to bargain with me eventually. Return my helm, and perhaps I will let her go. She is not dead, you know. Not yet. But if you displease me, that will change."

Percy must've been thinking about the pearls because a few seconds later, Hades said, "Ah, the pearls. Yes, my brother and his little tricks. Bring them forth, Percy Jackson."

And the silly boy took it out.

"Only three," Hades said. "What a shame. You do realize each only protects a single person. Try to take your mother, then, little godling. And which of your friends will you leave behind to spend eternity with me? Go on. Choose. Or give me the backpack and accept my terms."

Percy looked at Grover and me. Our face must've been really depressing from the look on Percy's face.

"We were tricked," He told us. "Set up."

"Yes, but why?" I asked. "And the voice in the pit—"

"I don't know yet," Percy said. "But I intend to ask."

"Decide, boy!" Hades yelled.

"Percy." Grover put his hand on Percy's shoulder. "You can't give him the bolt," Duh, who doesn't know that.

"I know that."

"Leave me here," he said. "Use the third pearl on your mom."

"No!"

"I'm a satyr," Grover said. "We don't have souls like humans do. He can torture me until I die, but he won't get me forever. I'll just be reincarnated as a flower or something. It's the best way."

"No." I drew my bronze knife. "You two go on. Grover, you have to protect Percy. You have to get your searcher's license and start your quest for Pan. Get his mom out of here. I'll cover you. I plan to go down fighting." Like Thalia, but I didn't say that.

"No way," Grover said. "I'm staying behind."

"Think again, goat boy," I said.

"Stop it, both of you!" shouted Percy.

"I know what to do," Percy said. "Take these."

He handed us each a pearl.

I said, "But, Percy ..."

He turned and faced my mother.

"I'm sorry," He told her. "I'll be back. I'll find a way."

The smug look on Hades's face faded. He said, "Godling ... ?"

"I'll find your helm, Uncle," Percy told him. "I'll return it. Remember about Charon's pay raise." Wow, sometimes, you've got to appreciate how nice he can be.

"Do not defy me—"

"And it wouldn't hurt to play with Cerberus once in a while. He likes red rubber balls."

"Percy Jackson, you will not—"

Percy shouted, "Now, guys!"

We smashed the pearls at our feet. For a scary moment, nothing happened.

Hades yelled, "Destroy them!"

The army of skeletons rushed forward, swords out, guns clicking to full automatic. The Furies lunged, their whips bursting into flame.

Just as the skeletons opened fire, the pearl fragments at our feet exploded with a burst of green light and a gust of fresh sea wind. We were encased in a milky white sphere, which was starting to float off the ground.

Spears and bullets sparked harmlessly off the pearl bubbles as we floated up. Hades yelled with such rage, the entire fortress shook and I was sure it was not going to be a peaceful night in L.A.

"Look up.'" Grover yelled. "We're going to crash!"

Sure enough, we were racing right toward the stalactites, which I figured would pop our bubbles and skewer us.

"How do you control these things?" I shouted.

"I don't think you do!" Percy shouted back.

We screamed as the bubbles slammed into the ceiling and ... Darkness. Were we dead?

No, I could still feel the racing sensation. We were going up, right through solid rock as easily as an air bubble in water. That was the power of the pearls, I realized—What belongs to the sea will always return to the sea.

For a few moments, I couldn't see anything outside the smooth walls of my sphere, then I felt myself moving upwards very quickly and then my pearl broke On the surface of the water.

I was still dizzy but I heard someone yell, "Dude!"

Percy suddenly grabbed my and dragged me to a life buoy. A curious shark was circling us, a great white about eleven feet long.

Percy said, "Beat it." The shark turned and raced away. The Son of the Sea God has his advantages too.

In the distance, Los Angeles was on fire, plumes of smoke rising from neighborhoods all over the city. There had been an earthquake, all right, and it was Hades's fault. He was probably sending an army of the dead after us right now.

But at the moment, the Underworld wasn't the biggest problem.

We had to get the thunderbolt back and face Ares of course, to get back the helm of darkness.


	16. Chapter 16

_Read review enjoy i-do-not-own-PJO_

A Coast Guard boat picked us up, but they were too busy to keep us for long, or to wonder how three kids in street clothes had gotten out into the middle of the bay. There was a disaster to mop up. Their radios were jammed with distress calls.

They dropped us off at the Santa Monica Pier with towels around our shoulders and water bottles that said I'M A JUNIOR COAST GUARD! and sped off to save more people.

Our clothes were sopping wet, even Percy's. I guess he willed himself to get wet so that no one would suspect anything.

After reaching dry land, we stumbled down the beach, watching the city burn against a beautiful sunrise.

"I don't believe it," I said. "We went all that way—"

"It was a trick," Percy said. "A strategy worthy of Athena."

"Hey," I warned.

"You get it, don't you?"

I dropped my eyes, my anger fading. "Yeah. I get it." It wasn't his fault. It was true.

"Well, I don't!" Grover complained. "Would somebody—"

"Percy ..." I said. "I'm sorry about your mother. I'm so sorry..."

Percy pretended not to hear her.

"The prophecy was right," I said. "You shall go west and face the god who has turned.' But it wasn't Hades. Hades didn't want war among the Big Three. Someone else pulled off the theft. Someone stole Zeus's master bolt, and Hades's helm, and framed me because I'm Poseidon's kid. Poseidon will get blamed by both sides. By sundown today, there will be a three-way war. And I'll have caused it."

Grover shook his head, mystified. "But who would be that sneaky? Who would want war that bad?"

I stopped in my tracks, looking down the beach. "Gee, let me think." I looked over and saw the culprit. Ares.

"Hey, kid," Ares said, seeming genuinely pleased to see Percy. "You were supposed to die."

"You tricked me," Percy said. "You stole the helm and the master bolt."

Ares grinned. "Well, now, I didn't steal them personally. Gods taking each other's symbols of power—that's a big no-no. But you're not the only hero in the world who can run errands."

"Who did you use? Clarisse? She was there at the winter solstice."

The idea seemed to amuse him. Which means it wasn't Clarisse. "Doesn't matter. The point is, kid, you're impeding the war effort. See, you've got to die in the Underworld. Then Old Seaweed will be mad at Hades for killing you. Corpse Breath will have Zeus's master bolt, so Zeus'll be mad athim. And Hades is still looking for this ..."

From his pocket he took out a ski cap—the kind bank robbers wear—and placed it between the handlebars of his bike. Immediately, the cap transformed into an elaborate bronze war helmet.

"The helm of darkness," Grover gasped.

"Exactly," Ares said. "Now where was I? Oh yeah, Hades will be mad at both Zeus and Poseidon, because he doesn't know who took this. Pretty soon, we got a nice little three-way slugfest going." He was sick, definitely.

"But they're your family!" I protested.

Ares shrugged. "Best kind of war. Always the bloodiest. Nothing like watching your relatives fight, I always say."

"You gave me the backpack in Denver," I said. "The master bolt was in there the whole time."

"Yes and no," Ares said. "It's probably too complicated for your little mortal brain to follow, but the backpack is the master bolt's sheath, just morphed a bit. The bolt is connected to it, sort of like that sword you got, kid. It always returns to your pocket, right?"

"Anyway," Ares continued, "I tinkered with the magic a bit, so the bolt would only return to the sheath once you reached the Underworld. You get close to Hades... Bingo, you got mail. If you died along the way—no loss. I still had the weapon."

"But why not just keep the master bolt for yourself?" Percy said, sounding really curious like he wanted to know. "Why send it to Hades?"

Ares got a twitch in his jaw. For a moment, it was almost as if he were listening to another voice, deep inside his head. "Why didn't I ... yeah ... with that kind of fire-power ..."

He held the trance for one second ... two seconds... I exchanged nervous looks with Percy. My guess was pretty accurate then. Kronos.

Ares's face cleared. "I didn't want the trouble. Better to have you caught redhanded, holding the thing."

"You're lying," Percy said. "Sending the bolt to the Underworld wasn't your idea, was it?"

"Of course it was!" Smoke drifted up from his sun-glasses, as if they were about to catch fire.

"You didn't order the theft," Percy guessed. "Someone else sent a hero to steal the two items. Then, when Zeus sent you to hunt him down, you caught the thief. But you didn't turn him over to Zeus. Something convinced you to let him go. You kept the items until another hero could come along and complete the delivery. That thing in the pit is ordering you around." Percy's getting smarter. Cool!

"I am the god of war! I take orders from no one! I don't have dreams!"

Percy hesitated. "Who said anything about dreams?"

Ares looked agitated, but he tried to cover it with a smirk.

"Let's get back to the problem at hand, kid. You're alive. I can't have you taking that bolt to Olympus. You just might get those hardheaded idiots to listen to you. So I've got to kill you. Nothing personal."

He snapped his fingers. The sand exploded at his feet and out charged a wild boar, even larger and uglier than the one whose head hung above the door of cabin seven at Camp Half-Blood. The beast pawed the sand, glaring at me with beady eyes a sit lowered its razor-sharp tusks and waited for the command to kill.

Percy stepped into the surf. "Fight me yourself, Ares."

He laughed, but I heard a little edge to his laughter... an uneasiness. "You've only got one talent, kid, running away. You ran from the Chimera. You ran from the Underworld. You don't have what it takes."

"Scared?"

"In your adolescent dreams." But his sunglasses were starting to melt from the heat of his eyes. "No direct involvement. Sorry, kid. You're not at my level."

I said, "Percy, run!"

The giant boar charged. But Percy refused. He let the boar ran at him I got scared for a moment but then he uncapped Riptide. He slashed upward. The boar's severed right tusk fell at my feet, while the disoriented animal charged into the sea.

He shouted, "Wave!"

Immediately, a wave surged up from nowhere and engulfed the boar, wrapping around it like a blanket. The beast squealed once in terror. Then it was gone, swallowed by the sea.

Percy turned back to Ares. "Are you going to fight me now?" he asked. "Or are you going to hide behind another pet?"

Ares's face was purple with rage. "Watch it, kid. I could turn you into—"

"A cockroach," Percy said. "Or a tapeworm. Yeah, I'm sure. That'd save you from getting your godly hide whipped, wouldn't it?"

Flames danced along the top of his glasses. "Oh, man, you are really asking to be smashed into a grease spot."

"If I lose, turn me into anything you want. Take the bolt. If I win, the helm and the bolt are mine and you have to go away."

Ares sneered.

He swung the baseball bat off his shoulder. "How would you like to get smashed: classic or modern?" Percy showed him my sword.

"That's cool, dead boy," he said. "Classic it is." The baseball bat changed into a huge, two-handed sword. The hilt was a large silver skull with a ruby in its mouth.

"Percy," I said. "Don't do this. He's a god." But I knew he had to, and he would.

"He's a coward," he told me, like I didn't already now but I didn't say so this time.

I swallowed. "Wear this, at least. For luck." She took off her necklace, with her five years' worth of camp beads and the ring from her father, and tied it around my neck.

"Reconciliation," I said. "Athena and Poseidon together." For the first time in uncountable years. Percy blushed and then smiled, "Thanks."

"And take this," Grover said. He handed me a flattened tin can that he'd probably been saving in his pocket for a thousand miles. "The satyrs stand behind you."

"Grover ... I don't know what to say."

He patted me on the shoulder. He stuffed the tin can in his back pocket.

"You all done saying good-bye?" Ares came toward Percy, his black leather duster trailing behind him, his sword glinting like fire in the sunrise. "I've been fighting for eternity, kid. My strength is unlimited and I cannot die. What have you got?"

Ares cleaved downward at Percy's head and for a moment, I freaked out, but Percy wasn't there anymore. The water push him into the air and he catapulted over Ares, slashing as he came down. But Ares was just as quick. He twisted, and the strike that should've caught him directly in the spine was deflected off the end of his sword hilt.

Ares grinned. "Not bad, not bad." He slashed again and Percy was forced to jump onto dry land. Percy tried to sidestep, to get back to the water, but Ares seemed to know what he wanted. He outmaneuvered Percy, pressing so hard Percy had to put all his concentration on not getting sliced into pieces. Percy kept backing away from the surf. Percy couldn't find any openings to attack. Ares sword had a reach several feet longer than Anaklusmos. This was bad.

"Percy!" I yelled. "Cops!"

Luckily Percy got to his feet. I was staring at the battle, in case Percy needed help, I would have to enter. I couldn't let him die, right. But out of the corner of my eye I saw red lights flashing on the shoreline boulevard. Car doors were slamming.

"There, officer!" somebody yelled. "See?"

A gruff cop voice: "Looks like that kid on TV ... what the heck ..."

"That guy's armed," another cop said. "Call for backup."

Percy rolled to one side as Ares's blade slashed the sand.

Percy ran for his sword, scooped it up, and launched a swipe at Ares's face, only to find his blade deflected again.

Ares knew what Percy was going to do. He couldn't win unless he could catch Ares by surprise. Strength bow to wisdom sometimes.

Percy finally stepped back toward the surf, forcing Ares to follow.

"Admit it, kid," Ares said. "You got no hope. I'm just toying with you."

Spectators, people who had been wandering the streets because of the earthquake, were starting to gather. Among the crowd, I thought I saw a few who were walking with the strange, trotting gait of disguised satyrs. There were shimmering forms of spirits, too, as if the dead had risen from Hades to watch the battle. I heard the flap of leathery wings circling somewhere above. Furies. This wasn't good at all. And then even more sirens.

Percy stepped farther into the water, but Ares was fast. The tip of his blade ripped Percy's sleeve and grazed his forearm.

A police voice on a megaphone said, "Drop the guns.' Set them on the ground. Now!"

Guns? But who cares. Important thing is Percy had to win.

Ares turned to glare at our spectators, giving Percy a moment to breathe. There were five police cars now, and a line of officers crouching behind them, pistols trained on us.

"This is a private matter!" Ares bellowed. "Be gone.'"

He swept his hand, and a wall of red flame rolled across the patrol cars. The police barely had time to dive for cover before their vehicles exploded. The crowd behind them scattered, screaming. Oh gods, are gods allowed to this.

Ares roared with laughter. "Now, little hero. Let's add you to the barbecue." He was a maniac.

He slashed. Percy deflected his blade. He got close enough to strike, and tried to hit him but his blow was knocked aside. The waves were hitting Percy in the back now. Ares was up to his thighs, wading in after me. Water, should be good.

Ares came toward, grinning confidently. Percy lowered his blade. He was too exhausted to go on. This was terrible. I was about to enter when Ares raised his sword. I was about to scream but then a tide hit Ares. It was a great trick and now I was glad I haven't charged yet.

Percy landed behind Ares with a splash and tried to hit his head Ares raised his sword. He was about to deflect when Percy changed direction and stabbed him in the heel. Who did he think Ares was? Achilles?

The roar that followed made Hades's earthquake look like a minor event. The very sea was blasted back from Ares, leaving a wet circle of sand fifty feet wide. Ichor, the golden blood of the gods, flowed from a gash in the war god's boot. The expression on his was beyond hatred. It was pain, shock, complete disbelief that he'd been wounded.

He limped toward Percy, muttering ancient Greek curses. Something stopped him. It was as if a cloud covered the sun, but worse. Light faded. Sound and color drained away. A cold, heavy presence passed over the beach, slowing time, dropping the temperature to freezing, and making everyone feel like life was hopeless, fighting was useless. Kronos presence was here.

Then, the darkness lifted. Ares looked stunned. Police cars were burning behind us. The crowd of spectators had fled. Grover and I stood on the beach, in shock, watching the water flood back around Ares's feet, his glowing golden ichor dissipating in the tide.

Ares lowered his sword.

"You have made an enemy, godling," he told Percy, like Percy didn't already know. "You have sealed your fate. Every time you raise your blade in battle, every time you hope for success, you will feel my curse. Beware, Perseus Jackson. Beware."

His body began to glow.

"Percy!" I shouted. "Don't watch!"

I turned away as the god Ares revealed his true immortal form. If we looked, we'd be disintegrate into ashes. The light died.

I looked back. Ares was gone. The tide rolled out to reveal Hades's bronze helm of darkness. He picked it up and walked toward us.

But before he got there, Furies reached him.

"We saw the whole thing," she hissed. "So ... it truly was not you?"

Percy tossed her the helmet, which she caught in surprise.

"Return that to Lord Hades," Percy said. "Tell him the truth. Tell him to call off the war."

She hesitated, then ran a forked tongue over her green, leathery lips. "Live well, Percy Jackson. Become a true hero. Because if you do not, if you ever come into my clutches again ..."

She cackled, savoring the idea. Then she and her sisters rose on their bats' wings, fluttered into the smoke filled sky, and disappeared.

Percy joined Grover and I, who were staring at me in amazement.

"Percy ..." Grover said. "That was so incredibly ..."

"Terrifying," I said.

"Cool!" Grover corrected.

I didn't feel terrified. I certainly didn't feel cool. I was tired and sore and completely drained of energy.

"Did you guys feel that... whatever it was?" Percy asked.

We nodded uneasily.

"Must've been the Furies overhead," Grover said.

But I wasn't so sure. Something had stopped Ares from killing Percy, and whatever could do that was a lot stronger than the Furies.

I looked at Percy, and an understanding passed between us. It was Kronos but Percy might not know this yet. He just knew it was the thing in the pit, I think.

Percu reclaimed Ares' backpack from Grover and looked inside. The master bolt was still there. Such a small thing to almost cause World War III.

"We have to get back to New York," Percy said. "By tonight."

"That's impossible," I said, "unless we—"

"Fly," Annabeth agreed.

I stared at him. "Fly, like, in an airplane, which you were warned never to do lest Zeus strike you out of the sky, and carrying a weapon that has more destructive power than a nuclear bomb?"

"Yeah," Percy said. "Pretty much exactly like that. Come on." I guess that's all we could do.


	17. Chapter 17

_Yep, second last episode... Next episode's about Luke's flashback... Review and i-do-not-own-PJO. Enjoy._

It's funny how humans can wrap their mind around things and fit them into their version of reality. Chiron had told me that long long ago. But I didn't expect this much.

According to the L.A. news, the explosion at the Santa Monica beach had been caused when a crazy kidnapper fired a shotgun at a police car. He accidentally hit a gas main that had ruptured during the earthquake.

This crazy kidnapper (a.k.a. Ares) was the same man who had abducted Percy and two other adolescents, namely Grover and me, in New York and brought us across country on a ten-day odyssey of terror.

Poor little Percy Jackson wasn't an international criminal after all. He'd caused a commotion on that Greyhound bus in New Jersey trying to get away from his captor (and afterward, witnesses would even swear they had seen the leather-clad man on the bus—"Why didn't I remember him before?"). The crazy man had caused the explosion in the St. Louis Arch. After all, no kid could've done that. A concerned waitress in Denver had seen the man threatening his abductees outside her diner, gotten a friend to take a photo, and notified the police. Finally, brave Percy Jackson (I was beginning to like this kid) had stolen a gun from his captor in Los Angeles and battled him shotgun-to-rifle on the beach. Police had arrived just in time. But in the spectacular explosion, five police cars had been destroyed and the captor had fled. No fatalities had occurred. Percy Jackson and his two friends were safely in police custody.

The reporters fed us this whole story. We just nodded and acted tearful and exhausted (which wasn't hard), and played victimized kids for the cameras.

"All I want," Percy said, choking back my tears, "is to see my loving stepfather again. Every time I saw him on TV, calling me a delinquent punk, I knew ... somehow ... we would be okay. And I know he'll want to reward each and every person in this beautiful city of Los Angeles with a free major appliance from his store. Here's the phone number." The police and reporters were so moved that they passed around the hat and raised money for three tickets on the next plane to New York.

I knew there was no choice but to fly. I hoped Zeus would cut us some slack, considering the circumstances. But it was still hard to force him on board the flight.

Percy must've been really afraid. He didn't unclench his hands from the armrests until we touched down safely at La Guardia. The local press was waiting for us outside security, but we managed to evade them thanks to me, who lured them away in my invisible Yankees cap, shouting, "They're over by the frozen yogurt! Come on!" then rejoined us at baggage claim.

We split up at the taxi stand. Percy told Grover and me to get back to Half-Blood Hill and let Chiron know what had happened. We protested but part of me knew that we had to go back.

We manage to find a drachma and contacted Chiron. Or tried to…

"Half-Blood Hill," I called out. Yep, and guess who appeared. No, not Luke this time. Travis Stoll and Katie Gardener strolling by Thalia's tree. I mean I've been suspecting them for years but seeing it was funnier. It was a pity they weren't holding hands.

We tried not to laugh but before I knew it, Grover was howling with laughter. My face broke into a grin and soon enough, I was laughing too. I saw Katie and Travis turn beetroot but I didn't care. It felt good to be able to finally relax.

"Stop it, guys," Travis complaint.

I managed to compose myself but I couldn't stop smiling. "Yeah, we're alive. Percy's going to Olympus and hopefully not get killed. Tell Chiron we're at New York. Send Argus to fetch us."

"Wipe that smirk off your face, Annabeth," he groaned. "And swear you guys won't tell anyone or I'll just pretend I've never seen this."

"Travis!" whispered Katie causing another outburst from Grover and me.

"Hey, but…" I choked out.

"Yes?" He asked raising his eyebrows mischievously.

"We'll just send another iris-message later."

"Bet you don't have any more drachma," I checked my pockets. Yep, none left.

"Fine! No telling but call Chiron now,"

He grinned in triumph, "Sure!"

Soon enough we were back in camp and told everyone the story. Everyone was happy but of course they couldn't guess who it was. Most of them couldn't at least. That night…

"Annabeth?" Mathew voice called out softly. I rolled over and pretended to be asleep.

"Little sis? I know you're not asleep! You can't sleep until you've figured out who it was so tell me!" he said. I ignored him. I was afraid that my guess was right. I didn't want it to be.

"Annabeth!" he said a little louder this time. "Or I'm going to wake up the whole cabin and tell them you're hiding something. They'll be so disappointed their councilor doesn't trust them and…" with every word he said, he got louder.

He was almost talking like it was day time when I sat up. "Fine. Kronos. I felt his presence. It was… unpleasant. Scary. I don't want to talk abou…"

He hugged me. "It's okay little sis. You won't be alone. You're not and never will be alright. You're the second youngest here. We'll all protect you."

"I'm the councilor!" I protested.

"That's the spirit darling." He replied and went back to his bed. He was right. My friends would be there.

That night, I thought about what Percy said. Giving a try with my father. Well, he wasn't that bad last time. Maybe Percy's right. I should try again.

The next morning, Percy came back but he was a hero now. We probably didn't have time to talk or discuss my father's letter so I wrote it myself. I sent the letter and was a nervous wreck waiting for the return letter.

Other days were just like normal camp days until the Fourth of July, the whole camp gathered at the beach for a fireworks display by cabin nine.

Before that, something even better happened. Dad letter said he was glad I wanted to come back and would be coming to fetch me home. I was delighted. Afterwards, I went to watch the fireworks with Percy.

Being Hephaestus's kids, they weren't going to settle for a few lame red-white-and-blue explosions. They'd anchored a barge offshore and loaded it with rockets the size of Patriot missiles. I told Percy, who'd never seen the show before, the blasts would be sequenced so tightly they'd look like frames of animation across the sky. The finale was supposed to be a couple of hundred-foot-tall Spartan warriors who would crackle to life above the ocean, fight a battle, then explode into a million colors.

As Percy and I were spreading a picnic blanket, Grover showed up to tell us goodbye. He was dressed in his usual jeans and T-shirt and sneakers, but in the last few weeks he'd started to look older, almost high-school age. His goatee had gotten thicker. He'd put on weight. His horns had grown at least an inch, so he now had to wear his rasta cap all the time to pass as human. He's finally grown up.

"I'm off," he said. "I just came to say ... well, you know."

I tried to feel happy for him. After all, it wasn't every day a satyr got permission to go look for the great god Pan. But it was hard saying good-bye. I'd known Grover like forever. I gave him a hug and told him to keep his fake feet on.

Percy asked him where he was going to search first which was silly because Grover was searching for Pan who doesn't mix with human.

"Kind of a secret," he said, looking embarrassed. "I wish you could come with me, guys, but humans and Pan ..."

"We understand," I said. "You got enough tin cans for the trip?"

"Yeah." Luckily, Percy got the hint.

"And you remembered your reed pipes?"

"Jeez, Annabeth," he grumbled. "You're like an old mama goat."

But he didn't really sound annoyed which was good or I'd be annoyed with him.

He gripped his walking stick and slung a backpack over his shoulder. He looked like any hitchhiker you might see on an American highway. He looked so different in a good way now.

"Well," he said, "wish me luck."

He gave me another hug. He clapped Percy on the shoulder, then headed back through the dunes. Fireworks exploded to life overhead: Hercules killing the Nemean lion, Artemis chasing the boar, George Washington (who, by the way, was my half-brother) crossing the Delaware.

"Hey, Grover," Percy called.

He turned at the edge of the woods.

"Wherever you're going—I hope they make good enchiladas."

Grover grinned, and then he was gone, the trees closing around him.

"We'll see him again," I said, trying to force myself to believe it.

I tried to believe it. The fact that no searcher had ever come back in two thousand years ... well, I decided not to think about that. Grover would be the first. He had to be.

The campers had one last meal together. We burned part of our dinner for the gods. At the bonfire, the senior counselors awarded the end-of-summer beads.

Percy got his own leather necklace, and when he saw the bead for my first summer, he was blushing. I knew he thought no one could tell but hey, daughter of Athena here? The design was pitch black, with a sea green trident shimmering in the center. I was the one who suggested it and I was sure he liked it. I wasn't wrong.

"The choice was unanimous," Luke announced. "This bead commemorates the first Son of the Sea God at this camp, and the quest he undertook into the darkest part of the Underworld to stop a war!"

The entire camp got to their feet and cheered. Even Ares's cabin felt obliged to stand. Athena's cabin steered me to the front so I could share in the applause. Percy didn't seem to mind so I was okay.

I saw him later in the evening and it wasn't for a good thing. He was bitten by a pit scorpion. Why did he have to be so careless and why did he go into the forest alone? When he woke up, I was feeding him nectar with his right hand bandaged and Argus standing guard. I was hoping with all my heart praying to every single goddess to let him live.

Finally, he opened his eyes.

"Here we are again," Percy said.

"You idiot," I said, "You were green and turning gray when we found you. If it weren't for Chiron's healing ..."

"Now, now," Chiron's voice said. "Percy's constitution deserves some of the credit."

He was sitting near the foot of my bed in human form, which was why I hadn't noticed him yet. His lower half was magically compacted into the wheelchair, his upper half dressed in a coat and tie. He smiled, but his face looked weary and pale, the way it did when he'd been up all night grading Latin papers.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Like my insides have been frozen, then microwaved."

"Apt, considering that was pit scorpion venom. Now you must tell me, if you can, exactly what happened."

Between sips of nectar, he told us the story. Luke betrayed us. He send stole the bolt and the helm and then tried to kill Percy. Why?

"I can't believe that Luke ..." my voice faltered. My expression turned angry and sad. "Yes. Yes, I can believe it. May the gods curse him... He was never the same after his quest." May the gods curse him… Hmm, maybe I should've left that out.

"This must be reported to Olympus," Chiron murmured. "I will go at once."

"Luke is out there right now," I said. "I have to go after him."

Chiron shook his head. "No, Percy. The gods—"

"Won't even talk about Kronos," I snapped. "Zeus declared the matter closed!"

"Percy, I know this is hard. But you must not rush out for vengeance. You aren't ready."

"Chiron ... your prophecy from the Oracle ... it was about Kronos, wasn't it? Was I in it? And Annabeth?" Chiron wasn't supposed to say, I thought.

Chiron glanced nervously at the ceiling. "Percy, it isn't my place—"

"You've been ordered not to talk to me about it, haven't you?"

His eyes were sympathetic, but sad. "You will be a great hero, child. I will do my best to prepare you. But if I'm right about the path ahead of you ..."

Thunder boomed overhead, rattling the windows.

"All right!" Chiron shouted. "Fine!"

He sighed in frustration. "The gods have their reasons, Percy. Knowing too much of your future is never a good thing."

"We can't just sit back and do nothing," Percy said.

"We will not sit back," Chiron promised. "But you must be careful. Kronos wants you to come unraveled. He wants your life disrupted, your thoughts clouded with fear and anger. Do not give him what he wants. Train patiently. Your time will come."

"Assuming I live that long."

Chiron put his hand on my ankle. "You'll have to trust me, Percy. You will live. But first you must decide your path for the coming year. I cannot tell you the right choice..." I could guess what Chiron wanted. It wasn't hard. "But you must decide whether to stay at Camp Half-Blood year-round, or return to the mortal world for seventh grade and be a summer camper. Think on that. When I get back from Olympus, you must tell me your decision."

I wanted to protest. I wanted to ask him more questions. But his expression told me there could be no more discussion; he had said as much as he could.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Chiron promised. "Argus will watch over you."

He glanced at me. "Oh, and, my dear ... whenever you're ready, they're here."

"Who's here?" Percy asked. Nobody answered. Good, I wanted to tell him myself

Chiron rolled himself out of the room. I heard the wheels of his chair clunk carefully down the front steps, two at a time.

I studied the ice in Percy drink, not knowing how to start.

"What's wrong?" Percy asked me, sounding genuinely concern.

"Nothing." I set the glass on the table. "I … just took your advice about something. You … um … need anything?"

"Yeah. Help me up. I want to go outside."

"Percy, that isn't a good idea."

Percy slid my legs out of bed. I manage to catch Percy before he could crumple to the floor. For a frightful second, I thought he was going to faint again.

I said, "I told you …"

"I'm fine," I insisted.

Percy managed a step forward. Then another, still leaning heavily on me. It was really tiring with him leaning on him. He was kind of heavy. Argus followed us outside, but he kept his distance. By the time we reached the porch, my face was beaded with sweat. My stomach had twisted into knots. But I had managed to make it all the way to the railing.

It was dusk. The camp looked completely deserted. The cabins were dark and the volleyball pit silent. No canoes cut the surface of the lake. Beyond the woods and the strawberry fields, the Long Island Sound glittered in the last light of the sun.

"What are you going to do?" I asked Percy.

"I don't know."

He told me he got the feeling Chiron wanted him to stay year-round, to put in more individual training time, but he wasn't sure that's what he wanted. Of course Chiron wanted him to stay year-round. Even I could guess that. He also admitted he felt bad about leaving me alone, though, with only Clarisse for company….

I pursed my lips, then said quietly, "I'm going home for the year, Percy."

He stared at me. "You mean, to your dad's?"

I pointed toward the crest of Half-Blood Hill. Next to Thalia's pine tree, at the very edge of the camp's magical boundaries, my dad, stepmom and stepbrothers stood silhouetted. They were waiting for me.

"I wrote him a letter when we got back," I said. "Just like you suggested. I told him ... I was sorry. I'd come home for the school year if he still wanted me. He wrote back immediately. We decided ... we'd give it another try."

"That took guts."

I pursed my lips. "You won't try anything stupid during the school year, will you? At least … not without sending me an Iris-message?"

Percy managed a smile. "I won't go looking for trouble. I usually don't have to."

"When I get back next summer," I said, "we'll hunt down Luke. We'll ask for a quest, but if we don't get approval, we'll sneak off and do it anyway. Agreed?"

"Sounds like a plan worthy of Athena." So not true. Sneaking away wasn't much of a plan but I sneaked away out of my house first after all

I held out my hand and Percy shook it.

"Take care, Seaweed Brain," I told him. "Keep your eyes open."

"You too, Wise Girl."

I walked up to Thalia's pine tree and whispered,

I gave my father an awkward hug and looked back at the valley, and Percy though I'd never admit it to him, one last time. I touched Thalia's pine tree and whispered, "I'll be back next year. Luke's… I told you earlier before I went to help Percy. I'm sorry but I want to give my parents a try. So… see you next year I guess," then allowed herself to be lead over the crest and into the mortal world.


	18. Chapter 18

**Luke's POV**

**Flashback**

I was smacking down dummies waiting like forever before Percy finally came. Kronos said he would come because it was what he enjoyed and used to relieve himself. I wasn't sure until I saw him coming.

I was in mid-swing when I saw him. "Percy."

"Um, sorry," Percy said, obviously embarrassed. "I just—"

"It's okay," I said, lowering backbiter. "Just doing some last-minute practice."

"Those dummies won't be bothering anybody anymore."

I shrugged. "We build new ones every summer." I could tell Percy was trying to be nice. He was a nice guy and I didn't want to kill him but it was essential. Plus, I could tell that Annabeth and Percy had a thing even if they couldn't tell yet. At least Annabeth cared for him and killing someone Annabeth cares for is worth it. If it wasn't for Annabeth, Thalia wouldn't have to die. It was partially her fault.

I saw Percy looking at my sword so I explained. He was going to die anyway. "Oh, this? New toy. This is Backbiter."

"Backbiter?"

"One side is celestial bronze. The other is tempered steel. Works on mortals and immortals both."

"I didn't know they could make weapons like that."

"They probably can't," I agreed. "It's one of a kind."

I gave Percy a best smile that I could manage but it was probably terrible. Now I'm standing here having known that I was about to kill him. The feeling wasn't great. I slid the sword into its scabbard. "Listen, I was going to come looking for you. What do you say we go down to the woods one last time, look for something to fight?"

Percy seemed uncertain. What if he guessed? Should I kill him? He was so innocent it seemed… wrong. Many sacrifices have to be made, my boy, Kronos said in my head. I sighed inwardly.

"You think it's a good idea?" Percy asked. "I mean—"

"Aw, come on." I rummaged in my gym bag and pulled out a six-pack of Cokes. "Drinks are on me."

He stared at the Cokes, probably wondering where the heck he'd gotten them. Hey, whether I liked it or not, I was the son of the God of Thieves. What do you expect?

"Sure," Percy decided. "Why not?" Part of me have been hoping he wouldn't agree but… Watch it, boy, Kronos ordered.

We walked a long time not finding a single monster. Then we found a shady spot by the creek. We sat on a big rock, drank our Cokes, and watched the sunlight in the woods.

After a while I said, "You miss being on a quest?"

"With monsters attacking me every three feet? Are you kidding?" I raised an eyebrow. I knew what it felt like after all.

"Yeah, I miss it," Percy finally admitted. "You?"

"I've lived at Half-Blood Hill year-round since I was fourteen," I told him. "Ever since Thalia ... well, you know. I trained, and trained, and trained. I never got to be a nor-mal teenager, out there in the real world. Then they threw me one quest, and when I came back, it was like, 'Okay, ride's over. Have a nice life.'"

I crumpled my Coke can and threw into the creek. Who cares about the nymphs and naiad? I wasn't coming back, ever.

"The heck with laurel wreaths," I said. "I'm not going to end up like those dusty trophies in the Big House attic."

"You make it sound like you're leaving."

I smiled again, but it came out wrong. It was hard to smile at someone you were going to kill. You'll have to learn, Kronos told me. "Oh, I'm leaving, all right, Percy. I brought you down here to say good-bye."

I snapped my fingers. A small fire burned a hole in the ground at Percy's feet. Out crawled a pit scorpion. I winced. Luckily, Percy didn't see my hesitation.

He started to go for his weapon, Riptide.

"I wouldn't," I cautioned. "Pit scorpions can jump up to fifteen feet. Its stinger can pierce right through your clothes. You'll be dead in sixty seconds." True reason, you might survive.

"Luke, what—"

He paused then said, "You,"

I stood calmly and brushed off my jeans.

The scorpion paid me no attention, of course. It kept its beady black eyes on me, clamping its pincers as it crawled onto my shoe. It was trained to ignore me.

"I saw a lot out there in the world, Percy," Luke said. "Didn't you feel it—the darkness gathering, the monsters growing stronger? Didn't you realize how useless it all is? All the heroics—being pawns of the gods. They should've been overthrown thousands of years ago, but they've hung on, thanks to us half-bloods."

"Luke ... you're talking about our parents," Percy said.

I laughed. "That's supposed to make me love them? Their precious 'Western civilization is a disease, Percy. It's killing the world. The only way to stop it is to burn it to the ground, start over with something more honest."

"You're as crazy as Ares."

"My eyes flared. "Ares is a fool. He never realized the true master he was serving. If I had time, Percy, I could explain. But I'm afraid you won't live that long." Part of me wondered once again if I wanted this.

The scorpion crawled onto Percy's pants leg.

"Kronos," Percy said. "That's who you serve."

The air got colder. I felt it too.

"You should be careful with names," I warned.

"Kronos got you to steal the master bolt and the helm. He spoke to you in your dreams."

Gee, this guy's guts was making me nervous. "He spoke to you, too, Percy. You should've listened."

"He's brainwashing you, Luke."

"You're wrong. He showed me that my talents are being wasted. You know what my quest was two years ago, Percy? My father, Hermes, wanted me to steal a golden apple from the Garden of the Hesperides and return it to Olympus. After all the training I'd done,that was the best he could think up."

"That's not an easy quest," Percy said. "Hercules did it."

"Exactly," I said. "Where's the glory in repeating what others have done? All the gods know how to do is replay their past. My heart wasn't in it. The dragon in the garden gave me this"—he pointed angrily at his scar—"and when I came back, all I got was pity. I wanted to pull Olympus down stone by stone right then, but I bided my time. I began to dream of Kronos. He convinced me to steal something worthwhile, something no hero had ever had the courage to take. When we went on that winter-solstice field trip, while the other campers were asleep, I snuck into the throne room and took Zeus's master bolt right from his chair. Hades's helm of darkness, too. You wouldn't believe how easy it was. The Olympians are so arrogant; they never dreamed someone would dare steal from them. Their security is horrible. I was halfway across New Jersey before I heard the storms rumbling, and I knew they'd discovered my theft."

The scorpion was sitting on his knee now, staring at him with its glittering eyes. I could hear a slight tremble in his voice. "So why didn't you bring the items to Kronos?"

My smile wavered. "I ... I got overconfident. Zeus sent out his sons and daughters to find the stolen bolt— Artemis, Apollo, my father, Hermes. But it was Ares who caught me. I could have beaten him, but I wasn't careful enough. He disarmed me, took the items of power, threatened to return them to Olympus and burn me alive. Then Kronos's voice came to me and told me what to say. I put the idea in Ares's head about a great war between the gods. I said all he had to do was hide the items away for a while and watch the others fight. Ares got a wicked gleam in his eyes. I knew he was hooked. He let me go, and I returned to Olympus before anyone noticed my absence."

I drew my new sword. "Afterward, the Lord of the Titans ... h-he punished me with nightmares. I swore not to fail again. Back at Camp Half-Blood, in my dreams, I was told that a second hero would arrive, one who could be tricked into taking the bolt and the helm the rest of the way—from Ares down to Tartarus."

"You summoned the hellhound, that night in the forest."

"We had to make Chiron think the camp wasn't safe for you, so he would start you on your quest. We had to confirm his fears that Hades was after you. And it worked."

"The flying shoes were cursed," Percy said. "They were supposed to drag me and the backpack into Tartarus."

"And they would have, if you'd been wearing them. But you gave them to the satyr, which wasn't part of the plan. Grover messes up everything he touches. He even confused the curse." He even lead us to a wrong turn and cause Thalia death.

I looked down at the scorpion, which was now sitting on Percy's thigh. "You should have died in Tartarus, Percy. But don't worry, I'll leave you with my little friend to set things right."

"Thalia gave her life to save you," Percy said, gritting his teeth. "And this is how you repay her?" Right! So the Gods treat Thalia well. She saved seven-year old Annabeth, Grover and my life and how did her dad help her? Turn her into a pine tree! It was outrages.

"Don't speak of Thalia!" I shouted. "The gods let her die! That's one of the many things they will pay for."

"You're being used, Luke. You and Ares both. Don't listen to Kronos."

"I've been used?" I heard my own voice turned shrill. "Look at yourself. What has your dad ever done for you? Kronos will rise. You've only delayed his plans. He will cast the Olympians into Tartarus and drive humanity back to their caves. All except the strongest—the ones who serve him."

"Call off the bug," Percy said. "If you're so strong, fight me yourself"

I smiled. "Nice try, Percy. But I'm not Ares. You can't bait me. My lord is waiting, and he's got plenty of quests for me to undertake."

"Luke—"

"Good-bye, Percy. There is a new Golden Age coming. You won't be part of it."

I slashed my sword in an arc and disappeared in a ripple of darkness. I didn't want to see him die. They would think I'm gone by now but I wasn't over yet. And now, I'm where I want to say my final goodbye.

**Flashback ends**

"Thalia," I whispered. "I'm really sorry I'll be going. I am probably not coming back but if you ever revive…" I stopped myself. "No! You're coming back for sure. I know you will!" I turned away not wanting to see her in this form. I wanted Thalia back. The girl with short black hair and electric blue eyes. Not the pine tree.

I heard a soft yelp and turned and I saw the yet most incredible thing. I saw her again. Thalia. Her bright blue eyes pleading and a small hold she pushed open on the bark. I ran over wanting to help her to push open the tree but fates were cruel. Did it happen that way? No. I reached a second too late. I watched as the tree bark closed back in on her as if in slow motion. My chance was gone. I'll have to wait for the golden fleece. I wanted to sit there and cry and scream until she come back alive but I knew my duty. I stood up and left my third home. _(First his with the mother. Second is in the wild.)_


End file.
